[in just about ANY OTHER situation, Martin would feel a thrill and a fluttering inside him at this moment of gentle Jon directed at him, but as it stands, he's too distraught to even notice.
he doesn't even close the door as he bends over the sink, resting his forehead on his arms, and just trying to breathe deeply and evenly. he's dizzy, he's nauseous, he's cold. his hands are gripping the arms of his sweater tightly. he hasn't even noticed yet that his left hand is turning transparent...]
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he doesn't even close the door as he bends over the sink, resting his forehead on his arms, and just trying to breathe deeply and evenly. he's dizzy, he's nauseous, he's cold. his hands are gripping the arms of his sweater tightly. he hasn't even noticed yet that his left hand is turning transparent...]