[ Always, he's prepared to believe her over his own perceptions. He looks down at his hands in confusion, expecting to see the claws of a monster. But his hands are still his hands, and when he touches his own face, it still feels like his face. ]
Nothing's wrong with me? Is something wrong with me?
no subject
[ Always, he's prepared to believe her over his own perceptions. He looks down at his hands in confusion, expecting to see the claws of a monster. But his hands are still his hands, and when he touches his own face, it still feels like his face. ]
Nothing's wrong with me? Is something wrong with me?