#*strange

When he thought of going to the ancient temple-- ruins now, yes, but still there, still with its remnants, still with its energy-- he thought he’d be alone. But the other person there surprises him, and judging from his robes, he wonders if he’s learned to channel the dimensional energy here, himself.

“This place is strong,” Stephen says, forgoing a greeting as he meets the young man’s gaze on him with a slight quirk of the mouth. “It’s teeming with en--” He pauses, retracing his steps, and reminds himself to use the proper term in this dimension. “With the Force.

meme.

“Is this-- really necessary to prove I can feel you--”

Because Stephen was certain there ought to be more convenient ways than having a dead man wrapped around him like an octopus. He understood that perhaps telling him he could feel him as well as see and hear him might have sounded like something of a stretch, but it should’ve been proven well enough with the first poke the man gave him. Or the first touch to his shoulder. Or the first high-five Stephen had reciprocated, even.

It appeared this spectre needed a few more reassurances, though, which he wouldn’t have minded if he weren’t currently draped over his back like a koala in the middle of what was supposed to be his meditation.

But was this what it was like to be touch starved? Stephen wondered (and pretended that a part of him didn’t find some kind of comfort in the simplicity of it all, because that’d be childish).