[ The clinical, assessing interest fades back to a warmer, scrunch-browed fascination. John gestures for him to come closer; he sits up properly, even drunk as he is. Illarion can kneel before him as a supplicant, or settle awkward onto the couch at his side. He'll take either. ]
I can see it. [ He traces his tongue against the edges of his teeth, sucks a slow breath, considering. ] Alright, then. Let's give it a try.
no subject
I can see it. [ He traces his tongue against the edges of his teeth, sucks a slow breath, considering. ] Alright, then. Let's give it a try.