[ The noises from outside the door have already quieted. Simon was going to try to message Eiji, rather than make noise, but he sees the glow emanating from his chest, and suddenly it doesn't feel like an important task. Panic suppressed suddenly, the rapid, uneven breaths through his nose slow, heart no longer drumrolling in his chest. No, it doesn't feel quite like suppression, it actually feels great, but it is unusual, and obviously Eiji is doing it.
And even after he slackens visibly and his eyes lose their bright, wild alarm, the noises from outside the door gone quiet, he asks, ] What are you doing to me?
[ Whatever this is, Simon assumes it's an ongoing effort. Possibly to rummage around in his brain, because that's the thing he jumps to now due to its sheer frequency. It still takes effort to even say that; it's said flatly, lacking in urgency, and it's hard to remember why he should really, truly care about the answer. But he's fearful enough and experienced enough in the unreal and manipulation and mental crises of every flavor that there's something left over that's capable of asking. ]
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And even after he slackens visibly and his eyes lose their bright, wild alarm, the noises from outside the door gone quiet, he asks, ] What are you doing to me?
[ Whatever this is, Simon assumes it's an ongoing effort. Possibly to rummage around in his brain, because that's the thing he jumps to now due to its sheer frequency. It still takes effort to even say that; it's said flatly, lacking in urgency, and it's hard to remember why he should really, truly care about the answer. But he's fearful enough and experienced enough in the unreal and manipulation and mental crises of every flavor that there's something left over that's capable of asking. ]