[He definitely noticed. Because this isn't the first time it felt like his world is ending... maybe he really should have learned his lesson after the depths, so he could have protected his heart, literally. Honestly, this fierce caring in McBurn's eyes is such a foreign emotion to have directed at him that it's difficult to register, in the way a human can't discern the shape of the sun by looking directly at it. But he can hold on to the warmth coming from his hand... almost like a hot-water bottle against his bare skin. Eric's usual body temperature swings closer to the cool end of tepidity, like the ice cream shops and freezing lakes take too long to fade out of his human warmth.
Therefore, this space heater quality of McBurn's is quick to permeate him. It does feel comfortable. Almost safe - although there's a strange inkling he has that there's something wrong about this feeling, but for now Eric is just sure he's finding it hard to trust anyone with his damaged heart. He'd rather put up with that than have him go away.
The reassurance is nice. More than he expected. Unbearable? He'd have settled for noticing at all. It doesn't matter how he sounds, because they're on the same page. Yeah, now that he mentions it, this probably is why he could only think about coming here. Eric chokes out a laugh amid his sobs that have at least quieted down a little, if not stopping.]
Y-Yeah, I was looking forward to it too. I wouldn't have missed it for the world or anything.
[He won't say McBurn is the new last-thing-he-has-left, because that would be revolving again which is bad, and he has other death game friends too. No way of telling if the Fie in Stickburn's universe is the one he knows, but that's another possibility. But for now, it's fine if he can at least be... an anchor or something, right? Just someone taking him on a long vacation from his troubles, like he said. He'll nod at that notion of more time, and once McBurn finally takes his hand away, he'll awkwardly finish up the bandaging.
But... he doesn't know where to go from here. He definitely can't get up the vacation mood on command. He'll just move mechanically toward the shirts and pick up the first one he sees that isn't red, which happens to be the sea-green one (not that Eric is thinking about this, but it brings out the blue in his eyes) - he puts it on next, carefully so it doesn't disturb his bandages. Not too difficult of a feat, if these are McBurn's clothes. They're a bit baggy on the shorter man.]
... [It's no good. All he can think about is either McBurn or Mira. He's starving for more comfort, enough to suck up his embarrassment. His hands hook under his armpits on either side.]
Could... you put your hand on me again?
[McBurn isn't sentimental and Eric is too repressed so he can't bring himself to ask for a full on hug, but he's also not saying where. Just asking him to repeat an action is fine, though, he thinks.]
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Therefore, this space heater quality of McBurn's is quick to permeate him. It does feel comfortable. Almost safe - although there's a strange inkling he has that there's something wrong about this feeling, but for now Eric is just sure he's finding it hard to trust anyone with his damaged heart. He'd rather put up with that than have him go away.
The reassurance is nice. More than he expected. Unbearable? He'd have settled for noticing at all. It doesn't matter how he sounds, because they're on the same page. Yeah, now that he mentions it, this probably is why he could only think about coming here. Eric chokes out a laugh amid his sobs that have at least quieted down a little, if not stopping.]
Y-Yeah, I was looking forward to it too. I wouldn't have missed it for the world or anything.
[He won't say McBurn is the new last-thing-he-has-left, because that would be revolving again which is bad, and he has other death game friends too. No way of telling if the Fie in Stickburn's universe is the one he knows, but that's another possibility. But for now, it's fine if he can at least be... an anchor or something, right? Just someone taking him on a long vacation from his troubles, like he said. He'll nod at that notion of more time, and once McBurn finally takes his hand away, he'll awkwardly finish up the bandaging.
But... he doesn't know where to go from here. He definitely can't get up the vacation mood on command. He'll just move mechanically toward the shirts and pick up the first one he sees that isn't red, which happens to be the sea-green one (not that Eric is thinking about this, but it brings out the blue in his eyes) - he puts it on next, carefully so it doesn't disturb his bandages. Not too difficult of a feat, if these are McBurn's clothes. They're a bit baggy on the shorter man.]
... [It's no good. All he can think about is either McBurn or Mira. He's starving for more comfort, enough to suck up his embarrassment. His hands hook under his armpits on either side.]
Could... you put your hand on me again?
[McBurn isn't sentimental and Eric is too repressed so he can't bring himself to ask for a full on hug, but he's also not saying where. Just asking him to repeat an action is fine, though, he thinks.]
It was so warm...