John is tense, ready to - to argue more, to insist that he's here and real, to -
He's not sure. When he woke up, he thought... He thought the conversation about the auditorium, the mirror, that would be urgent. Then he moved his own mouth and heard his own voice in the air.
His shoulders ease back down, slowly, and he finds himself almost chuckling too, sort of, at how... unbelievable this all is. John has his own body, and Arthur has his. That crisis, that mystery, has apparently been solved by whatever put them both here.
He doesn't even correct Arthur on who's seeing whom. He just steps forward.
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He's not sure. When he woke up, he thought... He thought the conversation about the auditorium, the mirror, that would be urgent. Then he moved his own mouth and heard his own voice in the air.
His shoulders ease back down, slowly, and he finds himself almost chuckling too, sort of, at how... unbelievable this all is. John has his own body, and Arthur has his. That crisis, that mystery, has apparently been solved by whatever put them both here.
He doesn't even correct Arthur on who's seeing whom. He just steps forward.
"Arthur, I..."