How bizarrely at ease Gustavain seems during this, the way he keeps up those gentle touches even as tension courses through every inch of Phillip's body, is making it all the harder for him to figure out how to respond. There is a part of him that wants to flop back down onto the sheets, take in as much of the warmth as he can while he has it, before it vanishes forever. But he doesn't, keeps his arms stiff as they prop him up, even as he doesn't move any further away.

"What is it you want me to say?" he asks, voice softer now, "They cannot force me to do their bidding, but they can send me back to the aetherial sea as easily as you can." A task which is not by any means actually easy, but it seems that hardly matters. "Are you going to?" It might be kinder than putting him through this.

He struggles with what he tries to say next, his rigid posturing giving way briefly to something gentler, trailing the tips of his fingers down Gustavain's wrist. "That is not a burden you should have to shoulder," he finally lands on, eyes cast down to where their hands are touching. I don't want you to die is hidden in there somewhere.