[ The shot takes the argument out of Tim, all mental energy diverted to a spiral of thoughts too disorganized to be a mantra that revolve around Kon’s being fine because the magic arrows hit Tim as well.

And Kon knows it, too, or knows to not let Tim go when he’s embarrassed nowadays. Feeling small is halfway to being small, but he’s never shrunk when touching someone else. Like an instinctual failsafe.

The offered embrace is too much to resist, though, and Tim takes him up on it immediately to hide in the open. Only when he feels secure and junk does he risk opening his mouth again to breathe the truth. ]

They shot you.

[ it was so quick, when Tim was right there and already blathering about his fear of loss. He wants to hold on until the magic fades, but it’s not all about him. ]

We can’t talk face-to-face. Yet.

[ The word is added with a growl of exertion, as Tim strikes a bargain with the truth. ]

I need five minutes if you want me to be okay with eye contact and this.

[ He can’t lie. Not even white lies about how they can talk face to face. Tim doesn’t - he tries to not hide the big truths from Kon. But he window dresses. Hides the mess.

He’s a disaster. ]

Especially if you’re going to get all Hallmark. With me.