[ is he okay? it's a question that's been asked of him several times over since he woke up here. it's a question he doesn't know the answer to — he feels as though he has never known the answer to it in his life. ]
[ he stands with a frame in his hands, still and almost trapped in time with how his posture doesn't shift. there's a wrinkling to his brow, but that's all. he barely hears her as he tries to place the moment the photograph has captured, and finds that it's blurry, as though thick clouds have descended upon him and he has no hope in seeing what's in front of him. ]
[ looking up at her, he moves over toward her. he shows her the photograph. it's a picture of the two of them, together and looking all too happy and comfortable. ]
no subject
[ he stands with a frame in his hands, still and almost trapped in time with how his posture doesn't shift. there's a wrinkling to his brow, but that's all. he barely hears her as he tries to place the moment the photograph has captured, and finds that it's blurry, as though thick clouds have descended upon him and he has no hope in seeing what's in front of him. ]
[ looking up at her, he moves over toward her. he shows her the photograph. it's a picture of the two of them, together and looking all too happy and comfortable. ]
Do you remember this?