[Al's gaze slides back over to his half-brother, and his hand clenches up in the fabric of his shirt. Grief and guilt and a strange kind of jealously are having a war in his gut, churning his stomach topsy-turvy.]
[He doesn't want to talk about this. Least of all with Envy. But at the same time...]
...what was she like? When you weren't all...working.
no subject
[He doesn't want to talk about this. Least of all with Envy. But at the same time...]
...what was she like? When you weren't all...working.