[When the bed makes an appearance - and Jr. could swear it hadn't been there just moments ago - it's easily recognizable. Regardless of how much time has passed, Jr. can't deny its striking familiarity. The structure, the smell, even a dent from an incident he remembers getting in trouble over. He wouldn't have thought that he remembered it that clearly.
And it's possible that he hadn't; Jr. has the sense that it's here because Albedo put it here. For what purpose, he's not as certain of...at least until hearing that comment. He hikes a brow at the words, shifting his weight slightly as he maintains some balance this his free arm]
You talking to yourself?
[The tenuous mirth is replaced by concern, his voice quiet. The question isn't really a question at all. It's difficult to sift through the feelings being relayed to him, confused and conflicted as they present themselves to be. Silence descends with the heaviness of winter snow, and to Jr. seems to linger on longer than it truly does]
...It wasn't this soft.
[He observes this, fingers pressed against the comforter. It's not entirely the past; made from it, certainly, but with evident differences]
no subject
And it's possible that he hadn't; Jr. has the sense that it's here because Albedo put it here. For what purpose, he's not as certain of...at least until hearing that comment. He hikes a brow at the words, shifting his weight slightly as he maintains some balance this his free arm]
You talking to yourself?
[The tenuous mirth is replaced by concern, his voice quiet. The question isn't really a question at all. It's difficult to sift through the feelings being relayed to him, confused and conflicted as they present themselves to be. Silence descends with the heaviness of winter snow, and to Jr. seems to linger on longer than it truly does]
...It wasn't this soft.
[He observes this, fingers pressed against the comforter. It's not entirely the past; made from it, certainly, but with evident differences]