the quiet noise creates new wounds in adam, worry running him raw like some kind of
burning acid. that’s a sound of pain, as if he were cauterizing a wound or pulling a
needle through a rift, and though there are a thousand possibilities, already, he thinks
he knows the cause. though he’s never lost an extremity, he’s known soldiers before
kaz who have, and the pain that followed the hollow space had been described to him
as a twisting agony, nerves flaring up as if in an effort to find the limb. he cannot imagine
the pain, and thus, his empathy rages even more, curving his features to wear a vaguely
melancholic mask of concern. he maneuvers alongside kaz as he staggers to a seat, an
unfaltering wall of support, strong despite his small stature. when he eases his weight
down, adam is right there, in front of him as opposed to his side. he crouches so that kaz
can look him in the eye, reaches to ever so gingerly coax him to give his hand. ‘ focus on
your breathing. in through your nose, out through your mouth. ‘ he demonstrates, once, twice.
and gives a little squeeze of the hand each time. ‘ is it hurting? ‘ he knows the answer is yes,
even if kaz may choose not to say it; he has known his body language enough that they need
not even speak, in the end, but it is a comfort to verbalize, one he thinks kaz prefers at times.
A hesitancy masks the man’s speech... weight being eased from his leg ( the stub of where it had been, pressed uncomfortably inside the prosthesis, ) as he takes a seat on the chair Adam had been kind enough to lead him to. Though, it’s unsurprising —— despite their rough beginning, he had always been there for Kazuhira when he needed him the most... even when the XO hadn’t realized he was in such distress. Swallowing the lump in his throat ( pride, he’d silently refer to it as, ) he speaks in a voice that, briefly, doesn’t sound like his own. ❝ Yeah, burning. ❞ More than that: a painful ache that’s leading to tingling sensations around the edges... a burning most prominent, resonating right in the dead center. Miller’s jaw is clenched —— teeth practically grinding together every time he feels his heartbeat in the limbs that are no longer there. That no longer exist. You’re not who you once were, he thinks, he reminds himself, it’s not real. It sure as hell feels real... enough to furrow his brow, eyes meeting Adam’s in a silent ‘ thank you ‘ for being there for him. For taking his hand. He breathes with him, he breathes without him, and for a moment, he begins to feel as though the world isn’t closing in on him. ❝ You look well today. ❞ Comes an offhanded comment, a few silent moments later, and even that is enough to help him ignore the pain. Physical... and emotional.
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