[There's a split second of tension at having someone in his room; long years of battle instinct a hard thing to shake off even when one can't remember why, but almost immediately a comfortable haze of recognition falls over him. The voice is familiar and Nyx opens his eyes to Steve in the chair next to him.
(There's explosions, he thinks. Yelling. Men in uniforms not at all like the one draped over the other chair, but he doesn't question it yet. Doesn't have enough pieces to put anything together yet.)
He forces himself to sit up, injured arm aching in protest, but tries to keep it off his face. Doesn't want to give off how bad he feels in front of...his friend (comradeofficerbrother the memory blurs as he tries to capture it)?]
Didn't expect company.
[His threat feels dry and he winces at how he sounds because of it.]
no subject
(There's explosions, he thinks. Yelling. Men in uniforms not at all like the one draped over the other chair, but he doesn't question it yet. Doesn't have enough pieces to put anything together yet.)
He forces himself to sit up, injured arm aching in protest, but tries to keep it off his face. Doesn't want to give off how bad he feels in front of...his friend (comradeofficerbrother the memory blurs as he tries to capture it)?]
Didn't expect company.
[His threat feels dry and he winces at how he sounds because of it.]