[Eventually, Grit winds up slumping against his side. It goes from a gentle brush of their shoulders together to the two of them supporting each other's weight in a silent show of solidarity, quietly watching the snow fall through the window from the comforting protection of a woolen blanket and quiet, wonderful company.
This is...
This is nice. Grit feels a little better.]
...You and Cup are rooming together.
[Unfortunately, feeling better does not equate to tact.'
-dusts off hands- my work here is done
This is...
This is nice. Grit feels a little better.]
...You and Cup are rooming together.
[Unfortunately, feeling better does not equate to tact.'