The question gets a moment of blinking, another of those surprised, stunned looks, like Koby isn't used to being noticed in any context -- which is, of course, a huge part of the problem. He swallows hard, still rubbing at his chest, nudging his glasses back up. "I-I don't need them, I...it's not that I don't trust you I...I'm used to it, I guess? I've gotten used to them."
Like he's gotten used to the pinch at his ribs, the way he can't take deep breaths, the persistent ache of his chest being compressed. It's all very familiar to Koby by now. He isn't fully conscious of how he keeps rubbing at his chest, looking over at Will with a cautious, wary expression.
Finally: "I don't...know how to be around other people. Yet." Well. It's something, at least?
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Like he's gotten used to the pinch at his ribs, the way he can't take deep breaths, the persistent ache of his chest being compressed. It's all very familiar to Koby by now. He isn't fully conscious of how he keeps rubbing at his chest, looking over at Will with a cautious, wary expression.
Finally: "I don't...know how to be around other people. Yet." Well. It's something, at least?