[The words begin to form on her lips at the same time as the flowers finish forming between his fingers. He's got exactly enough time to feel pleased that he's done it, and hopefully correctly, because being hit in the face with the fact that yes, they're doing this now.]
[It isn't that he's unafraid. Of course he's afraid. The idea of putting his well-being and his mind in anyone else's hands is horrifying. But it's what needs to be done, so he doesn't hesitate. He leans forward in his seat, looks into Elena's eyes, and listens solemnly.]
[What's funny is that he can feel the words pressing against his mind. He twirls the flowers between his fingers, and he lets the orders wash over him, and he waits. He waits for them to take effect . . .]
no subject
[It isn't that he's unafraid. Of course he's afraid. The idea of putting his well-being and his mind in anyone else's hands is horrifying. But it's what needs to be done, so he doesn't hesitate. He leans forward in his seat, looks into Elena's eyes, and listens solemnly.]
[What's funny is that he can feel the words pressing against his mind. He twirls the flowers between his fingers, and he lets the orders wash over him, and he waits. He waits for them to take effect . . .]
[And they don't.]
Mm, [he says, blinking lazily.] Yes.
[And then:] No. It doesn't appear to have taken.