[It startles her, that little bit of give. She never would have expected it. Or, at least - because people are so confusing and so malleable and so strange and so convoluted - she would not have expected it yet.]

[But there he is, telling her something. She almost ruins it by saying I'm sorry, but catches herself. No pity. Barely any sympathy, because it's easy to mistake for pity. No. She has to treat him as an equal if she wants to learn anything more.]

[If she wants to help him. If he can be helped.]

[She sighs.]

I guess things like a warm glass of milk or whatever they tell you doesn't work on you anymore.

Is it bad? Not sleeping? I heard you go crazy if you don't sleep for long enough.