Well. He doesn't feel much of anything. That's the point. Though physically, it's like Pyotr twisted all his sinews until he wrung every drop of liquid from his body. Gaeta's head swims, he can't quite catch his breath, but he feels so light. There's nothing left in him but necessity. Only what he needs to keep his body going, unencumbered.
He coughs one last time, weakly, and sags, noting the lack of pain as he moves. Not entirely -- his leg and his throat still hurt -- but it's so much more bearable all of a sudden without everything else in the way. Gods, is this what other people feel like? He would cry with relief, he thinks distantly, if he still had any desire to cry.
Idly, he rubs his throat, fingers worrying at the scar. He looks down at the enormous silver... puddle? Pile? To think one person could carry all of that inside them and not even know until they were free of it.
"I think you'll use it better than I will," he croaks.
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Well. He doesn't feel much of anything. That's the point. Though physically, it's like Pyotr twisted all his sinews until he wrung every drop of liquid from his body. Gaeta's head swims, he can't quite catch his breath, but he feels so light. There's nothing left in him but necessity. Only what he needs to keep his body going, unencumbered.
He coughs one last time, weakly, and sags, noting the lack of pain as he moves. Not entirely -- his leg and his throat still hurt -- but it's so much more bearable all of a sudden without everything else in the way. Gods, is this what other people feel like? He would cry with relief, he thinks distantly, if he still had any desire to cry.
Idly, he rubs his throat, fingers worrying at the scar. He looks down at the enormous silver... puddle? Pile? To think one person could carry all of that inside them and not even know until they were free of it.
"I think you'll use it better than I will," he croaks.