Biddable under coaxing hands, Armand stretching out that leg, angled to rest it against Daniel's. It feels like affirmation, these wandering fingers, in time with the things Daniel is saying. Armand is, in fact, present, and he is, in fact, rooted in his own body, not just some revenant thing ambulating himself for no particular purpose, taken apart, roughly thrown back together.

"I like plants," and he doesn't remember if he said that or just thought it, when Daniel had challenged him that one time, if there was anything real in him at all. Challenged him to think about it, at least, if not the notion itself.

He is watching Daniel's hands, which he also likes, and the world which is an odd rendering of layered cellophane layers aglow has skewed rosy, and that's because his eyes are wet. Which so rarely happens. Looks back at up Daniel's face, a flutter of a blink.

Says, "I think you will be disappointed," and that sentence was more full, but ends there.