[ Robby seems reluctant to heed the words to rest, mouth pressed uncertainly, his gaze restless. There's something more he feels he should do, more he wants to; to put a magical fix to all this, that cure that one always wishes to come in distressing times to fix the anxiety pulling a person down. Robby doesn't want sleep, he wants Mister LaRusso to be better, now, even if sleep will bring that fix.
And he knows that. Because he concedes to the omen's suggestion, to no delight. A brain that doesn't want to know if it can keep sleeping, or to put the effort into finding out. Robby's gaze never rises too far up Mister LaRusso's body, never seeing his full face; it's just his breathing he pays the most attention to, heart lodged somewhere in his throat.
He does fall asleep. Stays sleeping, despite the mind that would want to wake to anything unusual, or if Mister LaRusso were to awake. But his body is more exhausted, more tired than his mind can properly function to comprehend.
no subject
And he knows that. Because he concedes to the omen's suggestion, to no delight. A brain that doesn't want to know if it can keep sleeping, or to put the effort into finding out. Robby's gaze never rises too far up Mister LaRusso's body, never seeing his full face; it's just his breathing he pays the most attention to, heart lodged somewhere in his throat.
He does fall asleep. Stays sleeping, despite the mind that would want to wake to anything unusual, or if Mister LaRusso were to awake. But his body is more exhausted, more tired than his mind can properly function to comprehend.
Give him some time. ]