[ He nods along, too tired to protest. A private collection. Surely they'll find scraps enough here to keep him going. He doesn't presently have the energy to worry about what will happen if it's not enough. ]
Maybe. I hope so.
[ He is so, so tired. John leans his head back against Martin's shoulder— and frowns when this gives him a clear view of the new patterns ringing the man's throat. ]
May I... look at this? [ His fingers hover over the tattoo, a little crease of worry forming again between his eyes. ]
no subject
Maybe. I hope so.
[ He is so, so tired. John leans his head back against Martin's shoulder— and frowns when this gives him a clear view of the new patterns ringing the man's throat. ]
May I... look at this? [ His fingers hover over the tattoo, a little crease of worry forming again between his eyes. ]