[a tension leaves viktor's shoulders with her vanishing, returning as he looks over pal, similarly concerned some errant book hit him. fuck his sleeve, he pulls it up over his hand to dab a little at the blood sweat, letting out a soft, shaky sigh.]

Yes, fine. That escalated far faster than I assumed it would or could. I suspect our ghosts fed off each other.

[his eyes stray to the writing, though he can leave it alone for now to kiss pal. firmly, with the determination of someone why wants physicality to prove they're alright and here.

when he breaks it he finally slumps back to a seat on the desk, frowning at his sluggishly bleeding palm before his eyes go back to pal.] Are you alright? You seemed dazed before.