sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
"Hello, Doctor Hart," Finn says again, though his voice is his own this time, his tone low and very polite. He doesn't look at her - suddenly everything feels too close and far away all at the same time. He doesn't dare to even turn his head; there are still chains of bruises along his neck and his chest, fainter marks on his arms and hips beneath the silken wraps, and his lips are numb. He doesn't know if it's from dreamdust or just because of all that's happening.
Is he alright, though? He jerks his head in a motion that isn't a nod, but isn't anything else either. "I am back after my assignment," he explains. "I need to be checked for everything, and given a visual examination. Then I will need to write my report," He gently shifts his arm, which is beginning to lose circulation from the tie around his bicep. "Are... are you alright?"
Is he alright, though? He jerks his head in a motion that isn't a nod, but isn't anything else either. "I am back after my assignment," he explains. "I need to be checked for everything, and given a visual examination. Then I will need to write my report," He gently shifts his arm, which is beginning to lose circulation from the tie around his bicep. "Are... are you alright?"
FINN
