[ He doesn't sound fine. He sounds dangerous, like the sharp crack of winter ice across a lake threatening to break and plunge all into frigid depths. Even he can hear it and he takes a deep breath, in through the nose for four beats, out through the mouth for five as Chris finishes disrobing. His breath is still cooler than the air around them but only by a small amount. Easy to miss. ]
I'm fine.
[ He sounds much more like himself this time, though it's an effort to keep it that way. So much so he doesn't even seem to notice Amelia's hand needs tending. ]
Are you comfortable laying on the couch on your stomach? It would make it easier but I can do this standing if you'd rather not.
[ He feels sick for having to ask and another crack forms in the ice. He doesn't know what exactly they did, doesn't want Chris to have to relive it in the telling, but the evidence is there besides. The broken rib and spread of bruising is tale enough but what makes this guard's life forfeit is the angry red skin before him, the small burns, the welt along his neck. The words (he'll kill them and they'll know why). The rigidity in his demeanor now. Disciplined, careful, as if one thing out of place and he'll fall apart like a house of cards.
He probably needs to.
Something else to heal, and that at least he has regrettably more practice in. ]
no subject
[ He doesn't sound fine. He sounds dangerous, like the sharp crack of winter ice across a lake threatening to break and plunge all into frigid depths. Even he can hear it and he takes a deep breath, in through the nose for four beats, out through the mouth for five as Chris finishes disrobing. His breath is still cooler than the air around them but only by a small amount. Easy to miss. ]
I'm fine.
[ He sounds much more like himself this time, though it's an effort to keep it that way. So much so he doesn't even seem to notice Amelia's hand needs tending. ]
Are you comfortable laying on the couch on your stomach? It would make it easier but I can do this standing if you'd rather not.
[ He feels sick for having to ask and another crack forms in the ice. He doesn't know what exactly they did, doesn't want Chris to have to relive it in the telling, but the evidence is there besides. The broken rib and spread of bruising is tale enough but what makes this guard's life forfeit is the angry red skin before him, the small burns, the welt along his neck. The words (he'll kill them and they'll know why). The rigidity in his demeanor now. Disciplined, careful, as if one thing out of place and he'll fall apart like a house of cards.
He probably needs to.
Something else to heal, and that at least he has regrettably more practice in. ]