Klaus laughs in a way that suggests he knows exactly why he needs less excitement in his life. In fact, he sometimes misses the shitty but predictable circumstances of the Academy. He had a roof over his head, food on the table, and was surrounded by people who cared about his existence, in as much as anyone can. But now, they’re all split and it’s a dog eat dog, fend for yourself kind of world. And maybe he’s better at coping with it than most, but something about the danger of this withdrawal negates that.
He died. Klaus knows he came close, at the very least, based on the way he seemed to slip away with the ghosts as easily as air left his lips. He knows he’s already making an incredible recovery for someone who was at deaths door but hours ago. This is how these things go for him.
“God, no, food sounds fucking terrible,” he groans, shaking his head at the thought. “Though I should probably eat anyway. I feel like I’ll ralf even thinking about it.” He squeezes her hand softly, relishing in the small contact that requires nothing of him, that simply exists and promises to stay no matter what he’s able to give in return.
“I’m going to be just dandy. They’ll send me packing in a few hours and I’ll be out of your hair again for another few months. That’s the plan, anyway. The smell of piss and bleach is glamorous and all but I think I’ll take my chances.”
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Klaus laughs in a way that suggests he knows exactly why he needs less excitement in his life. In fact, he sometimes misses the shitty but predictable circumstances of the Academy. He had a roof over his head, food on the table, and was surrounded by people who cared about his existence, in as much as anyone can. But now, they’re all split and it’s a dog eat dog, fend for yourself kind of world. And maybe he’s better at coping with it than most, but something about the danger of this withdrawal negates that.
He died. Klaus knows he came close, at the very least, based on the way he seemed to slip away with the ghosts as easily as air left his lips. He knows he’s already making an incredible recovery for someone who was at deaths door but hours ago. This is how these things go for him.
“God, no, food sounds fucking terrible,” he groans, shaking his head at the thought. “Though I should probably eat anyway. I feel like I’ll ralf even thinking about it.” He squeezes her hand softly, relishing in the small contact that requires nothing of him, that simply exists and promises to stay no matter what he’s able to give in return.
“I’m going to be just dandy. They’ll send me packing in a few hours and I’ll be out of your hair again for another few months. That’s the plan, anyway. The smell of piss and bleach is glamorous and all but I think I’ll take my chances.”