[ his muscles immediately tense up as soon as he's lifted into six's arms; physical contact like that is almost alien to him, given that he hasn't been held like that in a long, long time, and while he weakly protests with a series of short, tired grunts along the way, he can't exactly pull himself off of six like this.

it's not until six lays him down on the bed like he's a fragile little thing that nehan has had enough of this sick, pitiable farce. he attempts to sit up on the bed, hand struggling to reach his cane. ]

I... I don't need your pity... [ he manages to grab ahold of his cane as he tries to force himself up on his feet. ] It must be... so easy for you to say all those things, doesn't it? You, who had everything at the palm of your hand...

[ despite all the atrocities six had committed in their clan, his own hands remain pristine. nehan, however, had suffered thoroughly without doing so much as to run away and his worn-out body proves it. but it's no use whining over how unfair it is. fate has never been nice to him.

ah, he can feel his own eye burning hot with tears. how embarrassing. he refuses to look at six for this as he pushes himself off the bed--

and takes the wrong step, because of course he does. and now he falls down, down... ​]