[The last thing Wilhelm wants to do is succumb to an anxiety attack in front of chaos. He swiftly walks away, in a random direction, putting some much-needed distance between them. It's not enough to make a real difference, he knows. When it comes to telepathy, there is no escape.]
You can't be so sure of that, [he replies harshly. His inner voice is like sandpaper.] There is nothing outside of the realm of possibility with you. For better or worse...
[Inhale. Exhale. Repeat ad nauseam.]
Must I explain myself?
[Apparently so, given how he feels forced to elaborate:]
no subject
You can't be so sure of that, [he replies harshly. His inner voice is like sandpaper.] There is nothing outside of the realm of possibility with you. For better or worse...
[Inhale. Exhale. Repeat ad nauseam.]
Must I explain myself?
[Apparently so, given how he feels forced to elaborate:]
Keep you here and make you mine.