[The smile that Paul manages in answer to Johnny's is a pale wreck of one, but it exists, shining through the slick of his face that all the sodden scrubbing in the world can't correct. ]
Yes, sensei.
[There are so many ways to say two words. This time, Paul says them sleepily, but sincerely. He doesn't have to believe in himself now, in the quiet, desperate, thin hours of night. He can let Johnny believe in him, and it's enough to let him lie back down on his side in his cot, disentangling from Johnny as gracefully as he can. For the most part.]
I'm sorry I woke you up.
[It's too much to ask him to stay until Paul falls back asleep aloud. Paul goes silent with his face half-turned into his pillow, his fingers casually, absently circled around Johnny's wrist.
(He still doesn't know what he's done, from his betraying tongue to the sear on Johnny's hand. He knows that it feels like something has passed over him: a sword, a storm. He knows that he thinks that if he sleeps now, freshly scoured of tears, he might stay asleep, and that's a gift in itself.)]
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Yes, sensei.
[There are so many ways to say two words. This time, Paul says them sleepily, but sincerely. He doesn't have to believe in himself now, in the quiet, desperate, thin hours of night. He can let Johnny believe in him, and it's enough to let him lie back down on his side in his cot, disentangling from Johnny as gracefully as he can. For the most part.]
I'm sorry I woke you up.
[It's too much to ask him to stay until Paul falls back asleep aloud. Paul goes silent with his face half-turned into his pillow, his fingers casually, absently circled around Johnny's wrist.
(He still doesn't know what he's done, from his betraying tongue to the sear on Johnny's hand. He knows that it feels like something has passed over him: a sword, a storm. He knows that he thinks that if he sleeps now, freshly scoured of tears, he might stay asleep, and that's a gift in itself.)]
Thank you.