That's Harry's opening argument as he heads into the room. His hair is a mess and his eyes have bags. He hasn't been sleeping that much, too bogged down with thoughts of Grodd controlling him. It had felt suffocating. He had never been claustrophobic before, but being unable to move, to control his thoughts or limbs, had left him with a lingering sense of anxiety. He couldn't sit still. He never was good at that before, but now he was rarely sitting for more than a few moments.
He looks at the second coffee and there's a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Black?"
yes yes you are.
That's Harry's opening argument as he heads into the room. His hair is a mess and his eyes have bags. He hasn't been sleeping that much, too bogged down with thoughts of Grodd controlling him. It had felt suffocating. He had never been claustrophobic before, but being unable to move, to control his thoughts or limbs, had left him with a lingering sense of anxiety. He couldn't sit still. He never was good at that before, but now he was rarely sitting for more than a few moments.
He looks at the second coffee and there's a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Black?"