[Leaning up against the metal behind him, he crosses his arms. No conversation that's ever light begins with a warning to not apologize, and Ryuji's been told a lot of personal stuff in his life before to know that whatever is going to come next is probably teetering heavily in that direction.
And it hits, and his heart sinks down into his stomach. It might be a little obvious that he's looking at her, more intently now, almost like he's reaffirming to himself that she's not dead. Just needed some WD-40 for the joints, and hopefully she'd be back on her feet and hopping along like everyone else.
But he would never scold her for that. He just couldn't. And honestly? No one else should ever, either.]
Oh... Well, uh. For someone who was dying, you look pretty alive to me right now.
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And it hits, and his heart sinks down into his stomach. It might be a little obvious that he's looking at her, more intently now, almost like he's reaffirming to himself that she's not dead. Just needed some WD-40 for the joints, and hopefully she'd be back on her feet and hopping along like everyone else.
But he would never scold her for that. He just couldn't. And honestly? No one else should ever, either.]
Oh... Well, uh. For someone who was dying, you look pretty alive to me right now.
[He'd probably fight to keep it that way, too.]
But how?