[Mikleo starts at the sound of Sorey's voice, his breath catching, and the water spills from his hands to soak his knees and the floor below. He doesn't notice. He'd heard Sorey's voice. Sorey's voice, not distorted by malevolence or missing entirely. He's there. He remembers.
It wasn't real. It's just as Lailah said. Everything's fine.
He still feels cold, so he doesn't trust his eyes yet; he leaves them closed, too scared to risk a glance lest the hallucination drive him deeper instead of allowing himself to be drawn out of it. His hands clench briefly into fists, and then he lifts one of them, open and reaching out to Sorey. His other hand finds Lailah's again, holding it gently but firmly; she's still his center, here, but he needs Sorey, too. If they're both here with him, if he can feel them instead of going only by what he sees, then surely his eyes will come around as well.]
I hear you. I can hear you.
[The relief in his voice is palatable, at the same time overwhelmed and urgent. He's almost there.]
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It wasn't real. It's just as Lailah said. Everything's fine.
He still feels cold, so he doesn't trust his eyes yet; he leaves them closed, too scared to risk a glance lest the hallucination drive him deeper instead of allowing himself to be drawn out of it. His hands clench briefly into fists, and then he lifts one of them, open and reaching out to Sorey. His other hand finds Lailah's again, holding it gently but firmly; she's still his center, here, but he needs Sorey, too. If they're both here with him, if he can feel them instead of going only by what he sees, then surely his eyes will come around as well.]
I hear you. I can hear you.
[The relief in his voice is palatable, at the same time overwhelmed and urgent. He's almost there.]
Here... come here...?