They feel like they're going to collapse. The threat's there, in weak knees and a sickly sense of heat that wants to bubble up out of their mouth; if they speak, it's going to. One hand stays on Chara's shoulder, knuckles white from how hard they clutch the fabric, trying not to be a burden as they steal support they never asked for.
The other takes Wade's hand as carefully as possible. Fingers curling to hide the shakes. They- there's some kind of sound, quiet. Directed at Chara.
no subject
Don't think about it a̗̤̤n͚͕̭̘͈̻̩y̘͎̥̦͝m̠o̤̺͜r̬̣͇͟e̪
They feel like they're going to collapse. The threat's there, in weak knees and a sickly sense of heat that wants to bubble up out of their mouth; if they speak, it's going to. One hand stays on Chara's shoulder, knuckles white from how hard they clutch the fabric, trying not to be a burden as they steal support they never asked for.
The other takes Wade's hand as carefully as possible. Fingers curling to hide the shakes. They- there's some kind of sound, quiet. Directed at Chara.
S'ok, Partner. He knows a ṣ̴̼̹̺͖̖h̨̫̼̦̙̗o̷͍̻̱̩͖̳r̛̞̼̟̝̥̜t̡c͇͔̬͚̜͠u̵̖t̮͖͍͖̘̫.