[ the water looks quenching. while a thought presses into the back of jayce's head to create, he tables the thought for now. the fountain ripples with . . . something, like the way rings would expand if a leaf were to fall upon it. he feels, instead, theories spring to the forefront of his mind like a trap. ]

Rebuttal, [ it's so easy to fall back on this. admittedly, it feels like home. it feels like what they should have been doing all those times either were absent from each other. jayce shakes the thought off like a pelt to continue, ] why not? There's no known constraint preventing it.

[ it's almost incredulous to think that he should be eating at a time like this, but jayce doesn't think when he reaches up and snaps off the first sphere he could grasp. it's an automatic response that seizes him, an innate fear embedded in his bones and deep in his stomach that the possibility of being without would follow wherever he'd go. ]

Our functions seem . . . intact. And, [ something . . . pokes in, call it jayce's arrogance, or confidence, or the fact that he simply knows, but he flips a colorful bulb stuck between wanting to be some sort of orange or pear in his hand, half to test his reflexes and half as a show of himself: ] for a hallucination, I'm making a compelling argument.

[ which hallucinations could never replicate. him? his brain? no. the same goes for viktor. the fact that he's questioning anything at all makes his shoulders relax from a tension pulled taut.

on some level, this is real. he nearly bites into the fruit with ravenous intent before it dawns on him that he hasn't thought to share. mid bite, and apologetically, he reaches for another and hands it to viktor.

force of habit, and not one he's exactly proud of. ]