Grey wasn't actually sure which was worse.
Was it better for every bone in your body to shatter at once, like ripping a bandaid off? Or was it better for it all to slowly crack away, every echo of your bone crunching and twisting and separating echoing in your ears over and over again?
The answer should have obviously been the latter, but honestly Grey didn't even know anymore. His mind wasn't exactly working as it should in the first place.
Right this moment, he was currently experiencing the latter. And the fact Amunet had to continue holding onto him so that his aura didn't alert half the city into a mass genocidal hunt for him only made things worse.
Usually he would have loved having such a cute girl hold onto him like this. But one, he wasn't much of a little spoon. And two, even the slightest touch felt like a scalding hot iron right now.
