I'm not complaining, man. I ask about shit all the time and you kinda...grunt or glare or squint and I drop it. Our friendship is built on manfully not talking about shit, respecting boundaries, and letting me sit here quietly when the world's too damn loud while I noodle on my guitar.

[ He tugs on Locus'- Sam's hand, pulling himself up and over (slick zero g light moves) to peer down into his face. And maybe set Luna on his chest instead. He is, after all, her person. ]

Only reservation I got is I don't know if you'll be. yanno. Comfortable with me hearing this shit when you're older again since this is gonna be temporary.