[He hears. His hands jerk down from where they're tangled in his own hair, hard enough to yank out strands of it; the sharp, mundane flash of pain from that is the first real-feeling moment he's had since he stepped into this place, and when he turns to face the stranger, he's slightly more focused. Still breathing hard, wide-eyed and fighting back sickness, but—
He gets a look at who's addressing him, and his expression crumples into confusion, tinged with desperation and anxiety.
What the hell is happening here?!]
—Huh?!
[Is all he manages, and it doesn't even feel like it comes from his own lips. He hears it echo off the walls before he realizes he spoke at all. And he doesn't move, yet, but at least now he's looking at this, this person, rather than at the mirrors. (But they're still there, fighting for attention out of the corner of his eye.)]
no subject
He gets a look at who's addressing him, and his expression crumples into confusion, tinged with desperation and anxiety.
What the hell is happening here?!]
—Huh?!
[Is all he manages, and it doesn't even feel like it comes from his own lips. He hears it echo off the walls before he realizes he spoke at all. And he doesn't move, yet, but at least now he's looking at this, this person, rather than at the mirrors. (But they're still there, fighting for attention out of the corner of his eye.)]