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darkseal
[Truthfully speaking, this Ball was nothing more than a glorified dance class in Linhardt's mind. They were practically obligated to attend and partake, dancing with people and exchanging smiles and pleasantries; a ball like this was at least somewhat important to the nobility, Linhardt was sure, but as far as he was concerned? He had no business here, and the first chance he could get out, he took gladly.
He wasn't altogether sure about where to go, honestly; he could certainly just turn in for the night on his bed, or get back to his crest research, but there was another curiosity that he wanted to take a look at; the Goddess Tower. The details were a little fuzzy in Linhardt's mind, but he had heard some so-called rumors about what happened within the tower. Something interesting would happen if two people entered the tower...was it that they would be blessed by the Goddess if they shared a vow, or that they would be cursed for defiling her tower? Linhardt couldn't really recall off the top of his head, as it wasn't a topic that interested him too much, but...well, it was an interesting research opportunity and there was certainly a first time for everything.
But of course, he knew very well he wasn't exactly destined for much in the love department. As far as he was concerned, the Goddess Tower would be a once in a lifetime napping spot, and Linhardt intended to take the bait. It was surprisingly quiet, though he didn't doubt that there were people waiting to come in and try to find their 'true love', as they would likely call it. Linhardt finds his way to a nice spot within the tower, settling himself in for what's likely to be an interesting sleep, if nothing else.
Who knows, maybe he'll get to eavesdrop on some unlucky sap within the tower before he nods off, or perhaps even hear someone find the love of their life. The latter would certainly be a nice thought, for one of the others, perhaps. That would at least be interesting to hear...]
He wasn't altogether sure about where to go, honestly; he could certainly just turn in for the night on his bed, or get back to his crest research, but there was another curiosity that he wanted to take a look at; the Goddess Tower. The details were a little fuzzy in Linhardt's mind, but he had heard some so-called rumors about what happened within the tower. Something interesting would happen if two people entered the tower...was it that they would be blessed by the Goddess if they shared a vow, or that they would be cursed for defiling her tower? Linhardt couldn't really recall off the top of his head, as it wasn't a topic that interested him too much, but...well, it was an interesting research opportunity and there was certainly a first time for everything.
But of course, he knew very well he wasn't exactly destined for much in the love department. As far as he was concerned, the Goddess Tower would be a once in a lifetime napping spot, and Linhardt intended to take the bait. It was surprisingly quiet, though he didn't doubt that there were people waiting to come in and try to find their 'true love', as they would likely call it. Linhardt finds his way to a nice spot within the tower, settling himself in for what's likely to be an interesting sleep, if nothing else.
Who knows, maybe he'll get to eavesdrop on some unlucky sap within the tower before he nods off, or perhaps even hear someone find the love of their life. The latter would certainly be a nice thought, for one of the others, perhaps. That would at least be interesting to hear...]
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I promise you that what is said will not leave this room...and I swear I will not think any less of you for what you wish to say to me. You may count on that.
[He knows Hubert took back the other one, but it must have been just as important if he said that one first.]
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He trusts Linhardt. He does, doesn't he? So why is it so difficult to get it out?]
...I'm terrified of heights.
[The words are soft, almost defeated but tempered with frustration.]
I doubt I could even get on a wyvern, much less remain conscious once it left the ground.
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No. No, that's too much logic. This isn't a situation where logic can help, even if it's all Linhardt really knows.
But...he has to try, at least.]
...It's certainly not wrong to be terrified of such a thing. And I can understand why you would want to avoid having others know, lest it...
[Ugh, no, no, that's wrong--Linhardt shakes his head.]
No, no, I...I suppose what I mean to say is that it is not an unfounded fear. And I look at you no lesser for having such a thing.
[...That's better but not by much, okay. Okay, he's getting this, he thinks.]
...Would it be better to discuss a plan of action, to avoid dealing with this?
[...that's still too much logic, but we do have to deal with the elephant in the room at some point.]
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And then he finds himself laughing, without really meaning to. He gets it under control quickly, but there's still the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when he responds.]
You're terrible at this.
[It's gentle, though. He reaches up to take Linhardt's hand from his shoulder and without thinking, laces their fingers together.]
Don't get me wrong, it is important to have a plan of action, and that is something we will need to discuss. The first and most important thing is to sympathize and understand, then do what you can to set the other person at ease.
In this case, a bit more of a focus on it being an acceptable fear would have been nice, as well as acknowledgement and understanding. Most people don't react well to hearing plans of action first.
[Obviously he doesn't mind, but it doesn't hurt to share what he's learned with Linhardt. Empathy was never something that came naturally to him. Even now he has to pause and figure out how to address the situation in a way that isn't cold or dismissive. It wouldn't be accurate to say he has no empathy, he just didn't learn how to express it in any sort of proper way early on and it was only through Her Majesty's lessons that he's even gotten to this point.
So he doesn't find it frustrating or upsetting that Linhardt's bad at this. Honestly, he'd probably be more embarrassed if Linhardt did get overly sympathetic.]
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...Admittedly, only a bit, because Hubert is actually willing to explain that much to him--Linhardt definitely feels kind of guilty for him having to do so in the first place, when he's clearly been a distressed mess this entire time and it should be Lin who's comforting him, and Linhardt's expression doesn't really brighten any or anything, but he does nod his head and listen rather attentively. Hubert's at least willing to tell him this much, and he does appreciate it.]
I suppose I was...worried that such a thing might come off as insincere--that if I spent so much time reiterating the point of how terrible it was, that at best, it would come off as, well, speaking in circles; I didn't think such a thing would help you. At worst, it would likely have come off as mocking your fear, which is the last thing I would want to do after you entrusted it to me.
[...He does wind up squeezing Hubert's hand a little bit, and their interlaced fingers. Linhardt clearly doesn't mind, and his expression lightens the slightest bit.]
I do thank you for going out of your way, despite your own distress, but you shouldn't have had to. I apologize, for not realizing that myself; it's incredibly unfair to you, and what you are facing.
[That much is sincere, at the very least. It's a reality he needs to face, after all, and he's kind of glad that Hubert didn't get angry at him for it.]
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[He is never telling Linhardt that he was seriously considering letting a wyvern take a bite out of his arm to avoid this.]
I would never have assumed it was mocking. [Not from Linhardt.] There's no need to apologize; comfort like this doesn't come easily to everyone. It took me a long time to learn how to handle others' distress, and even then I still tend to come off as far too cold.
[...]
When we were children, Her Majesty would often get very upset. I couldn't understand why, and I couldn't help her. She eventually taught me how to read others and attempt to see how they were in pain and what sort of response they might like. Without her assistance, I can only imagine how horrible I'd be at it.
[He squeezes Linhardt's hand in return. He probably should let go, but he finds he doesn't want to.]
Don't worry too much about it. It isn't easy to learn, but I don't mind assisting you with it from time to time, if you'd like.
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He listens. It is good to know that Edelgard was able to do that for Hubert, really; he could only imagine how bad at this Hubert would be if he wasn't trained to look for those sort of things. Linhardt supposes that makes sense, even if he's never properly understood some of those things; why people act the way they do is something that has perplexed Linhardt a lot, especially when it comes to delicate subjects.
Linhardt winds up shaking his head in response to Hubert's words. Honestly, that the subject has shifted to this from Hubert's own distress is actually kind of making Linhardt unhappy, that's--]
I thank you for the offer, and shall take it in the future, as I want to better understand this and assist you as best I can--but this is not about me.
[Linhardt winds up shaking his head. Hubert's just going to go back to avoiding the subject if he lets this become the focus, isn't he? And that's missing the entire point of at least trying to help him overcome this, or avoid it, or just listen to him when he's trying to open up. It's vexing in a way Linhardt greatly dislikes, and Linhardt's words are firm, perhaps a little annoyed and upset, but there's a strange feeling behind them that Linhardt doesn't quite understand. But he persists none the less.]
Hubert, allow me to make something clear--you are not working yourself up far too much. What you're feeling right now is a result of something that paralyzed you with fear, and to say something like that is simply 'working yourself up'...it disregards even your own fears, does it not? It discards them off to the side, and allows you the chance to run away from them, but...
Isn't it cruel to not give yourself that same sort of courtesy? [Linhardt feels somewhat bad for turning this on Hubert himself, but he's not sure he could get the point across otherwise.] Because you're deserving of it. You're more than deserving of such a courtesy--anyone would be afraid of such a thing, of being essentially at the mercy of a fickle being who is far more in control of the situation in the air than you are. When you're that high up, it's near impossible for someone to be able to assist you, and if something happened, then that's--that's--
[...The words die off there, and Linhardt isn't even sure he's kept his point straight anymore.]
...That's cruel, and negligent towards yourself. Perhaps I spoke out of turn, but...that is very distinctly what it sounds like.
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He's always been particularly bad at minimizing his own feelings. He always puts Her Majesty first, and everything else is secondary. He was so terrified of his feelings for Linhardt that he his from them for four damn years, of course it's not a surprise that he's refusing to acknowledge his own fear even when openly admitted to someone he trusts.
Cruel and negligent toward himself. Is that what it is? He's done this for so long. He's always, always ignored his own feelings to focus on the goal and what was needed of him. He's always been so determined to not let anything get in the way that in the process, he's lost himself. He's been so caught up in being Her Majesty's dagger - and now, her army - that he's never really let himself acknowledge his own feelings, or even pursue the things he wants.
Linhardt is right. It isn't fair to be cruel to himself like this. But how does he deal with knowing that everything he's done for so long has been detrimental to him? If Her Majesty knew... she'd be extremely upset. She's always considered him a friend, and knowing that his desire to do everything he can for her has wound up hurting him like this...
It's a lot to take in. The scope of it is almost dizzying. How could he have been so blind?]
I... I didn't intend to turn the conversation away from it, or to ignore it.
[He can start by clarifying that much, even if the rest of it is almost completely overwhelming.]
When I was young, my father taught me how to ride a horse. The very first time I managed to get up on horseback, I passed out. He insisted that I needed to learn how to ride and eventually, I was able to do it. I suspect it's only because I grew tall enough that the distance to the ground wasn't enough to bother me as much.
[He's not really sure why he says it, but it helps some of the puzzle pieces fit into place.]
My father was... He was the sort of man I will never be. He was not cruel, but he did not prioritize the Emperor as he should have. I vowed to never be anything like him, and that may have... caused me to become overzealous in my devotion to Her Majesty.
[...]
My fears are unimportant at best and a hindrance to Her Majesty at worse. My desires are hers and anything else is a distraction. I am hers to command, and nothing more.
[He raises his free hand to his forehead, like he's fighting off a coming headache.]
...I have said too much. Please, forget that. I will sort through all of this later.
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There's no mistaking the mild disgust that crosses Linhardt's face as Hubert talks about his father--who does that to their child? Who looks at their child's fear, their child's understandable fear, and forces them to continue without helping them attempt to combat it? Who does that? Who does that? Linhardt almost doesn't even want to know what Hubert's father apparently did to not prioritize Edelgard, but something tells him the disgust might overwhelm him entirely if he knew. Even vaguely, it explains why he's so dedicated to her, and that's...
All of this is eye opening. Linhardt isn't sure he could forget it if he tried--Hubert's laid himself bare, without even meaning to, and everything he's said does something to Linhardt's chest, and he feels like it's breaking, almost, and he should do something to help, anything--
He winds up using the hand that's entwined with Hubert's to pull him closer, and his own free hand to hug the man tightly. Linhardt's never really given any proper hugs in his life, but he's had plenty of people to learn from--plenty of people who he cares for, deeply, and appreciates. Some he appreciates so much more, after all of this.
(He's going to need to write a letter to his parents tonight, to thank them for raising him well.)]
Your father sounds like he was a craven man. Hideous, at that--that he would do such things to you is a failing on his part, to say nothing of how he neglected Her Majesty. That's not the way a father should treat his child--that's not how anyone should be treated.
[Linhardt's words are firm when he says that much.]
...I will insist you are more than that--more than a simple weapon, and more than the sum of your experiences. You're a human being, Hubert, and one who deserves far better from this world.
[...]
You may sort through all of this whenever you like; it sounds like there is...much, to go through. But you don't have to face it alone anymore, if you don't want to. There are people who are willing to fight for you, too.
[Linhardt doesn't know if that's a comfort, and he doesn't know if he's even saying anything sensible. But he feels like Hubert needs to know all of this. It feels right, and he doesn't want to take any of it back.]
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Maybe if he'd figured this out four years ago, things would be very different with Linhardt. That gets him to tighten his grip on his friend.]
House Vestra has served the Emperor ever since the founding of the Empire. My father betrayed that and turned his back on the previous Emperor. Our house's legacy meant nothing to him, just as the Emperor did. He did nothing to Her Majesty - thankfully - but his were the actions of a traitor and he got exactly what he deserved.
[His words are far too bitter, and it's only now that he can realize that it runs deeper than a difference in fundamental beliefs. He's hated his father for years, and that was one of the few emotions he allowed himself. It wouldn't be accurate to say he enjoyed killing the man, but he'd enjoyed planning for it, and building up to it, and—
He suddenly doesn't want to think about that anymore. He pulls Linhardt closer instead.]
Thank you. I... In all honesty, I don't know what to do with such a notion. I have never needed - or wanted - anyone to fight for me. I was under the impression I never needed anyone at all.
I'm glad I have you by my side, Linhardt. I don't know what I'd do without you.
[He would have retreated further into his role as Her Majesty's weapon. He would have tried to crush his feelings even further. He spent four years doing that, after all. While it feels like he's realized something he really shouldn't, it's also almost liberating; he's worked out (a part of) what's wrong with him, and maybe it's something he can begin to fix, even a little bit.
Best of all, he finally understands why he has so much trouble letting Her Majesty and Linhardt in. Maybe, after so many years of not understanding and avoiding it, he can finally begin to heal.]
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...How utterly disgusting. That man truly is better off where ever he is rotting.
[...Linhardt doesn't like saying that, but it encapsulates the bitterness that he feels, that someone would do something like this to Hubert. It feels disgusting to say that, even if his thoughts trail toward worse things that make his skin crawl to think about--that he's thinking about, that disgust him.
He's thankful that Hubert pulls him closer, perhaps best signaling that it may be best to drop this; the next subject is something Linhardt can at least attempt to navigate with more ease.]
It is a hard notion to grasp, isn't it? That even one individual person, one who stays so far by themselves...can inspire people. Can make those people want to look out for them, protect them, even devote themselves to them. [Linhardt's tone is kind, though, when he says that.] But no man is an island, Hubert. Even if they are, they're bound to cross paths with other lands at one point or another...or perhaps more accurately, we're more like fish. We instinctively swim toward one another, much like a school, as we keep an eye out for even those of us who keep to themselves...we propel ourselves towards better understanding one another, or perhaps simply even to attempt such a thing, and...
[...This analogy is fast getting away from him, Linhardt winds up shaking his head.]
--But to the point. You don't have to know what to do right now, if you don't want to. That's your decision to make in the end, but...we will always be here for you. No matter what that decision winds up being.
[It's not like you could get rid of any of them now if you tried, Hubert!! Linhardt especially!!]
I'm glad to be by your side, Hubert. [...] ...No, perhaps more accurately, I am proud to be by your side. I'm proud of you, really.
[Most people would run away from a realization like this, but here he is, at least trying to move forward. It's tenacity that Linhardt admires about him.]
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I'm not entirely sure you should be. The things I've done aren't the sort most people would be proud of.
[But it's light, he's not genuinely troubled by it.]
Thank you, Linhardt. I think I needed to hear that. I've spent so long trying to be Her Majesty's stalwart wall, I've forgotten that I can allow myself to have those by my side as well. I am so pleased to have you by my side.
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[That's just as lightly said, and really, Linhardt chuckles a bit at it--he knows that Hubert's definitely done some...less than favorable things, but he's not backing down from that.]
It's no trouble, really. Sometimes we all need to be reminded that we can allow ourselves support from others, hm? I'll always be here by your side, to remind you of that.
[If they weren't tangled within each other so deeply right now, honestly, he'd bow. But this is honestly really nice, as far as Linhardt's concerned; he doesn't want it to end.
...If it helps ignore the elephant in the room a while longer, then he's honestly glad to ensure it doesn't end, dear gods--]
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You have my thanks. You've been here for me for so long... It's a bit strange to think about, in all honesty. I appreciate it, more than I can express, really.
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This is enough. It has to be enough.]
It really is no trouble. You've done the same for me, when I needed it, and you've helped me become someone far better than the person I once was, through your guidance. I'm truly thankful for it as well...
[...]
It means so very much to me, that you have.
[He wants to bite his tongue for saying that, that's too much, but it's out, very softly, before he can stop it.]
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[This is nice, it's so nice and he never wants it to end, but...]
I... suppose I should go let the professor know that I won't be able to help with this particular task.
[He doesn't want to move, but he begins to pull back, gently.]
I'll see if we can continue working together.
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That would be for the best; I sincerely hope you never have to deal with this again. [Linhardt considers something for a moment.] Perhaps, could I come with you? I would be more than willing to back up your story. That, and Professor Byleth can be a little...
[...]
...aggressively themself, so to speak.
[Jesus Lin, come after the poor teacher's whole family, why don't you. He's sure Hubert gets what he means. He's never seen a person so damn dead in the expression department in his life, but he does at least want to offer.]
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Yes, they certainly are a bit... much sometimes. I'd appreciate the company.
[He smiles at that; it's that expression that's a bit more open than usual and reserved only for Linhardt.]
You have my gratitude for the offer. I'm sure it will be easier with you by my side.
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He certainly wasn't alone anymore, at any rate, and Linhardt was happy to be put on tasks that didn't risk Hubert's fears being brought forth. He'd even take the rubble clearing with pride, at any rate, knowing he wouldn't have to deal with Ferdinand again.
It's a couple weeks later, however, that Linhardt finds himself in the library once again; the library has become something of a haven in these times, a nice quiet place of refuge to get work done. Of course, Linhardt tries to keep to a routine when he's not using the place as a glorified bedroom; be out before nightfall, take everything to his room, eat dinner, and then don't step out out until the next morning unless there's tasks to be done.
If anyone asked, it was because Linhardt rather preferred to be in bed earlier than most...which wasn't entirely a lie. Linhardt did like to be in bed early enough, if only because it minimized his chances of getting up later at night for something. It certainly wasn't because of some insignificant fear, not something like...ghosts, or anything like that. Not at all! It certainly didn't play into why Linhardt was never fond of spooky stories at all, or wandering around too late in the dead of night. Nope. No sir. Nothing like that at all.
So Linhardt is totally not on edge when he wakes up in the library at a much later hour than what he had intended to stay in. Nope. Not at all. The realization totally doesn't dawn on Linhardt that he's alone, this late at night, and that he's gonna...have to navigate through the monastery alone...
It's fine. It's totally fine. He's got this. He can wander his way around and find his way out, it's...totally...
...Okay, no, it is very decidedly not fine; it's entirely too late to be trying to go out walking out, surely just. Due to it being unsafe to be out this late. That's just it, honestly, it's not safe. It's not due to the fact that ghosts could be out. Or the fact that there's...the sound of footsteps in the distance...
Linhardt is going to prove himself to be world's worst horror protagonist and go check out the noise, over from his safe place at the library's hallway. Surely nothing could go wrong like this, right? Surely.
...He hopes. Linhardt is fully prepared to high tail it back into the library to find a hiding place if he does not hear any sort of confirmation. Or just. The footsteps getting closer. It's not a very concrete plan, but it's a plan at least. Let's just hope he doesn't have to put it into action...]
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Of course, Her Majesty isn't the only important person in Hubert's life anymore, and he spends as much time as he can with Linhardt. They still have plenty of work to do and can't be around one another all the time, but it's nice to be back at the monastery and falling into rebuilding efforts that are a bit less stressful than battles and tactics.
(Admittedly he is a bit annoyed that Byleth has taken over his job of commanding troops and plotting out their next course of action, but he can't remain all that frustrated when he has plenty of things to still work through on his own. Maybe this is Her Majesty's way of trying to give him a break. He hasn't had one in five years, after all.)
It took him longer than he would have liked to wrap up his work tonight, and he hasn't seen Linhardt at all recently. The last place anyone saw him was the library, so that's where he's headed upstairs to check. Unsurprisingly, Hubert moves entirely too quietly for it to sound natural, and his footsteps are soft enough to be easily missed despite his boots.
Or in Linhardt's case, to sound too quiet to belong to a person.
And also they're approaching steadily.
They're entering the library.]
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Linhardt winds up scampering to find a hiding spot before those footsteps get any closer--something that Hubert will likely hear, at any rate--hiding behind one of the many pillars in the room while keeping as silent as he possibly can, not daring to turn around to stare the evil in the face. That was the thing about ghosts; they followed sounds, but as long as you kept perfectly still and quiet, they wouldn't find you. Or, at least, that's what some of the other kids told him.
He's not sure what to do at this point, really; hearing around for the ghost isn't going to help when their footsteps are so quiet. If he makes a sudden move that isn't a mad dash for the door, he'll get caught by the ghost, and he'd rather not die tonight? He'd rather not die, after all--he still had so much to do! So much research to get done! So many letters to send! So many wounded to heal! A man to...well, no, okay, Linhardt didn't actually think that far yet, but the point still stands!
Linhardt isn't sure what to do at this point, clutching one of the books he had taken out to himself like a life line. He knew using magic on ghosts wouldn't be effective, but...maybe a book would distract them if he tried to get their attention elsewhere...
What Hubert will see when he walks into the library is...well, a bunch of clean tables and one very, very messy one. There's papers all over the table, books open to various pages along with a generally large stack of books. There even seems to have been a candle lit up at one point, though it's half melted and was clearly put out before it became a hazard. It sure is how Linhardt normally leaves his stuff, at any rate...
But it is pretty damn dark in here, if he didn't bring his own candle or something with him. (Or if he isn't using magic, you know, like the mage he is.) What will he do from here?]
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But where is Linhardt anyway? There aren't any other lights in here than the one he has with him (though it's admittedly not nearly as bright as it probably should be, because Hubert is a creature of darkness and doesn't need much light to see by anyway). Did Linhardt wander off and leave a mess here? He wouldn't be particularly surprised about that, honestly...
He pauses at the door, a hand raised to his chin as he considers. Well, it won't hurt to give the library a look before he leaves. Maybe Linhardt fell asleep in a corner somewhere or something.
There's the (very) faint glow of a candle and those still entirely-too-soft footsteps as he moves to check the library further.]
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That's great! Spectacular! Absolutely wonderful! He's trapped in the library with a ghost and it's getting closer, those soft steps are getting closer and he doesn't have much time to make his peace with this. He's going to die if the ghost finds him. He's going to die and there isn't a soul (hah) who can save him in here. He's gonna probably join the ghost in this fate of haunting the library forever, isn't he?
No. No, he can't do that! He can't just give up like this! Linhardt doesn't want to die and join the spirits of the damned; he still has a whole world left to create, doesn't he? He has to survive. He has to. He has to make them all proud--make Hubert proud, if nothing else. He can't exactly do that when he's dead, at any rate. If he wants to live...he has to try to face this head on.
Linhardt waits until the footsteps feel close enough, gripping the book in his hands tightly. He's still too afraid to face the ghost head on, so he's relying entirely on sound for this; he waits, and waits, shuddering slightly as he prepares to throw this book with all of the strength he can muster, in the hope that it distracts them for long enough so he can flee to the safety of his room. Maybe even get some help.
Once the ghost is in what Linhardt hopes to be striking distance, Linhardt comes out from hiding and proceeds to yeet the book directly at the ghost.]
Leave this place at once!
[...Of course, there are two problems; one, Linhardt's strength isn't exactly the best, so the book is not likely to travel too far. And two...well, he's relying solely on sound, rather than actually looking the so-called evil in the face. There's. A very strong possibility he just chucked that book in the entirely wrong direction.
Which Linhardt doesn't even realize, because once the book is thrown, he's attempting to run as fast as humanly possible out of the library. Of course, his eyes are still shut, so he's very likely going to run into and hit his head on something, so he. Might need a bit of help, um.
...Sorry Hubert, hopefully you don't get a book to the face???]
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The first is that a book is launched at him and smacks him directly over his right eye. It wasn't thrown with enough force to seriously injure him but the startled noise he makes at that causes him to lose his grip on the candle and it falls to the floor.
The second is that something soft and person-shaped collides with him and Hubert sighs before reaching out to grab the person by the shoulders.]
I can certainly say that's the most rude way I've ever been greeted.
[He doesn't need the light to know who it is, and a smile's already beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth.]
Good evening, Linhardt.
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And then he finally hears Hubert's voice, and Linhardt's eyes snap open, startled. Wait, when did Hubert get in here?]
Hubert? I can't say I expected you to be in here this late at night...
[Linhardt tries to will down his slightly shaky tone, so Hubert doesn't have to worry. It's fine, it's totally fine, no problems here. Certainly nothing is wrong.
...Of course, that's before he looks at Hubert's face, and he suddenly feels himself growing several shades paler.]
...I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here at all, so I thought that there may have been...
[He trails off there, but. Well. This is suddenly exceedingly awkward.]
No, never mind that. Did you get hurt?
[...Please tell him he didn't legit take out your eye...]
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