[ He asked the question yet can't focus enough to really hear the answer, eyes locked on the nightmarish absurdity spilling from and sticking to her lips. Another hallucination, he decides. And then he takes that decision back, reaching down to grab her by the jaw and wipe the corner of her mouth with a thumb. It's enough to let him forget how ridiculous it is for a grown man, pants half-down, to scrutinize the substance he's rubbing between it and index, hand slipping from her face. ]
… It's not real.
[ And yet, after a drawn out breath, he brings it to his mouth. ]
no subject
… It's not real.
[ And yet, after a drawn out breath, he brings it to his mouth. ]