[ What an awfully suspicious line of questioning. A little too pointed not to have some sort of ulterior motive behind them, and he's suddenly reminded of what Gavial had offered up when he and Johnny had run into her earlier, unsettling news about kidnappings and experimentation.
He'd certainly considered the possibility of having been kidnapped as he made his way back to Springstar, but without any concrete evidence it seems more trouble than it's worth to broach that topic now. Especially with Dokja acting the way he is. ]
...No.
[ Maybe Dokja can tell he's not being entirely truthful though from the way he hesitates before answering, a longer lull than usual filling the space between.
But what is he supposed to say, that he woke up with hazy memories of too-bright light illuminating a dark shadow looming over him? That he'd spent the first hour of his return feeling sick to his stomach thanks to a suffocating feeling of dread that something wasn't quite right? It would only serve to make Dokja's anxieties that much worse, and that's the last thing they both need right now.
The words aren't that much of a lie anyway; a brief flash of something barely constitutes enough to form any sort of solid memory.
His fingers flex against the wall, then drop down back to his side. He's tired. They're both tired. They can pick up the threads of this conversation later. His other hand stays where it is though, curled around Dokja's fingers, and as he pulls back and turns towards the bed, he none-too-gently tugs Dokja along with him. ]
Take a nap with me. You can worry more later.
[ Apparently he still has enough energy to be demanding. ]
no subject
He'd certainly considered the possibility of having been kidnapped as he made his way back to Springstar, but without any concrete evidence it seems more trouble than it's worth to broach that topic now. Especially with Dokja acting the way he is. ]
...No.
[ Maybe Dokja can tell he's not being entirely truthful though from the way he hesitates before answering, a longer lull than usual filling the space between.
But what is he supposed to say, that he woke up with hazy memories of too-bright light illuminating a dark shadow looming over him? That he'd spent the first hour of his return feeling sick to his stomach thanks to a suffocating feeling of dread that something wasn't quite right? It would only serve to make Dokja's anxieties that much worse, and that's the last thing they both need right now.
The words aren't that much of a lie anyway; a brief flash of something barely constitutes enough to form any sort of solid memory.
His fingers flex against the wall, then drop down back to his side. He's tired. They're both tired. They can pick up the threads of this conversation later. His other hand stays where it is though, curled around Dokja's fingers, and as he pulls back and turns towards the bed, he none-too-gently tugs Dokja along with him. ]
Take a nap with me. You can worry more later.
[ Apparently he still has enough energy to be demanding. ]