[He walks in silence after a nod, manages to get to the inside of the house he's been staying in--but he can't take it much more. He really can't. He can barely even see straight. For a moment the colors swirl together and then he feels his lungs screaming at him to breath right. A panicked wheeze and he leans into the couch inside, knocking over a heavy side-table as he staggers again, unable to recuperate from it just yet. Sweat drips down his neck and jawline.]
[action] June 11th
Fucking hell--