[ It feels like the first step off a ledge--the moment where gravity takes over from weightlessness. Matt's breath hitches, his heart starting to race. He's cognizant of trying to jerk away, pure unconscious movement on his part, and of Silco holding him in place with that uncanny strength. But the touch, for once, feels removed from him.
He draws in another deep breath. His eyes skitter off Silco's face rather than meeting his gaze, landing on the objects arranged on his shelves. The artificial arm grabs his attention this time; it seems to echo his own physical detachment, his high-flying mental precision. He wonders if Nebula's okay.
Matt counts as he breathes, words rising from the depths of his brain: As Day and Night are not afraid, nor ever suffer loss or harm--
He can't tell if it's some distorting quality of the glass here. But in the window, he sees his pupils blown wide, an unfamiliar purple coloring his irises. ]
no subject
He draws in another deep breath. His eyes skitter off Silco's face rather than meeting his gaze, landing on the objects arranged on his shelves. The artificial arm grabs his attention this time; it seems to echo his own physical detachment, his high-flying mental precision. He wonders if Nebula's okay.
Matt counts as he breathes, words rising from the depths of his brain: As Day and Night are not afraid, nor ever suffer loss or harm--
He can't tell if it's some distorting quality of the glass here. But in the window, he sees his pupils blown wide, an unfamiliar purple coloring his irises. ]