Martin K(nife) Blackwood

[ That gentle little lean brings another smudge of colour back to Algric’s side. Blue now, where his jumper shines through dimly. It’s like Jon is painting with his body. ]

I - I know that, but it’s -

[ He takes a moment to think, to ... really try to phrase this carefully. He doesn’t want to hurt Jon, or act like Tim hasn’t had his own positive effect. They both have. (And Martin can too, if they figure out a way to talk without seeing each other.) And yet. ]

I’m - I’m distinct from Martin, right? I’m a different person.