[Jean takes far less time to gorge himself, finally slowing to nibble on the flowers after a point. He's still got more than just a few bites of bread left, but he's got no intent of making himself sick.
Munch munch munch. Yeah. He already knows he could get used to this. Or at least, he will. Maybe. If the peace and calm and comfort of it all stops feeling so surreal and dreamlike.
no subject
Munch munch munch. Yeah. He already knows he could get used to this. Or at least, he will. Maybe. If the peace and calm and comfort of it all stops feeling so surreal and dreamlike.
He kind of hopes it doesn't.]