[ He unwinds his legs, slipping off his own bed to step toward Jack's. Kahlil hovers for a second, standing at the edge with an almost invisible flicker of abashed uncertainty, as if entering someone's personal space when invited is somehow more of an imposition than asking to share a mind space.
His hesitation doesn't last more than a moment before he gracefully slides into a mirrored position. Jack doesn't seem self-conscious over the missing length of his leg, and Kahlil makes no comment on it or the prosthetic on the floor. His gaze fixes on Jack's upturned palm instead, frowning thoughtfully. ]
That's really all there is to it?
[ Meditation and holding hands.
He's never been good at meditating. But mostly it seems wrong that this would be so easy. ]
no subject
His hesitation doesn't last more than a moment before he gracefully slides into a mirrored position. Jack doesn't seem self-conscious over the missing length of his leg, and Kahlil makes no comment on it or the prosthetic on the floor. His gaze fixes on Jack's upturned palm instead, frowning thoughtfully. ]
That's really all there is to it?
[ Meditation and holding hands.
He's never been good at meditating. But mostly it seems wrong that this would be so easy. ]