[ He absolutely does assume each and every one of those things, and his eyes widen to hear Gilgamesh summarize them so succinctly. Not that Adra is a difficult person to read, really.
He takes hold of Gil's wrists, his grip light, but firm, warm. Always feverishly warm.
What should he do? What should he say?
He doesn't answer immediately. He just sits there, in the water, breathing softly. He likes this moment; this closeness. This contact.
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He takes hold of Gil's wrists, his grip light, but firm, warm. Always feverishly warm.
What should he do? What should he say?
He doesn't answer immediately. He just sits there, in the water, breathing softly. He likes this moment; this closeness. This contact.
Finally: ]
All right. All right, Gil. We can try.