[Nero smirks at the request, but grumbles in his throat irritably all the same. He can definitely tell he's calmed down some, but his stomach is still a yawning, queasy void that feels like it got wrung out like a dishrag and then slapped back into his guts.]
I'm not stubborn. I feel like I got hit by a fucking truck.
[But he is awfully thirsty. So after a moment he makes the effort to slide an elbow behind him, sitting up enough to try and discern where his water is.]
no subject
I'm not stubborn. I feel like I got hit by a fucking truck.
[But he is awfully thirsty. So after a moment he makes the effort to slide an elbow behind him, sitting up enough to try and discern where his water is.]
What were you reading?