He flinches away from the contact automatically, but his feathers are already spiked up on end and his expression is already drifting, drawn tight and unfocused simultaneously, so he tries to pass the gesture off in the choppy jerk of his nod.

"You can afford a cab?" Don't question how rusty the words sound, the way they rasp up against each other like gravel. Don't wonder why your eardrums are throbbing, why a migraine is leveling itself between your eyes like a heat-seeking leucotome.

Don't speculate why your head feels filled with static, why Jay's words break through to you slowly, as though you're hearing them issued underwater.