[ The panic pulls his attention away from the scratch marks as well, worry on his face as he looks over to her. His gaze moves from her face to follow her eyes, seeing the way her hands had already turned to porcelain. ]

Anna...

[ His hands are still flesh, even if the joints are aching, and so he goes to wrap them around hers, blocking the vision of the ceramic that's taking over her skin. ]

Anna, look at me. We've still got time. It'll all go back to normal once we get out of here. [ He thinks. He realizes he really doesn't know, but he refuses to believe otherwise. ] Stay with me, okay?