"Bit speechless," he manages, still looking shellshocked at the notion that after all the preparations and the words and the poetry, none of it comes to him now. He's been abandoned and left to fend for himself, sensation alone. He blinks the disbelief from his eyes to stare up at her fondly. "Nothing you need worry about," he gets out, words taking longer to form. "It's -- this is...very good."
no subject