[So there's another universal, Paul thinks, as Falco guides the applesauce into Confetti's avidly waiting mouth. The gesture is like he remembers, but the sound that comes with it is different, and Paul is caught on thw realization that every place must have some variation on the noise that means flight.
Then Falco interjects into his reverie, and Paul touches just below his left eye, startled.]
My - ?
[There's no pale residue of color, silver or blue, over his skin. The way that Falco called out wasn't alarmed. Paul feels fine. He feels better than fine. It all adds up to one conclusion, which breaks over him like a bright wave.]
Thank you.
[He says it to both of them, but mostly to Falco, tenderness filling eyes that shade another faint wash of green with it.]
You're a good friend. For all of this, and everything else. I'm lucky to know you.
no subject
Then Falco interjects into his reverie, and Paul touches just below his left eye, startled.]
My - ?
[There's no pale residue of color, silver or blue, over his skin. The way that Falco called out wasn't alarmed. Paul feels fine. He feels better than fine. It all adds up to one conclusion, which breaks over him like a bright wave.]
Thank you.
[He says it to both of them, but mostly to Falco, tenderness filling eyes that shade another faint wash of green with it.]
You're a good friend. For all of this, and everything else. I'm lucky to know you.