[Nai attempts, however slowly, to take Vash's jacket off of him and hand it back — but his shoulders, he's realising, are too stiff to move properly. They still move, but he feels like he's losing control of his body rapidly, that his muscles are stones and soon he won't have locomotion in his arms at all. To that end, he can't grab the jacket, not really, and so Vash wins this round.
The jacket is warm. Of course it's warm. Vash was always the warmer of the two of them, whether physically or emotionally. Even the metal fingertips that graze his shoulders are warm, or so Nai thinks. Perhaps it's just that he's so freezing, anything that touches him suddenly feels like a blazing sun.
He shakes his head, and something underneath his skin creaks.]
...Take it back. [He says, in lieu of being able to shove that jacket back in his brother's face.] I won't be able to follow you. I can barely move.
[He pauses. Takes a breath, the freezing air like needles in his lungs.]
You've been fine without me before, [a quiet, unbidden admittance, one that he would ordinarily hate were any of his emotions actually functioning now,] so go.
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The jacket is warm. Of course it's warm. Vash was always the warmer of the two of them, whether physically or emotionally. Even the metal fingertips that graze his shoulders are warm, or so Nai thinks. Perhaps it's just that he's so freezing, anything that touches him suddenly feels like a blazing sun.
He shakes his head, and something underneath his skin creaks.]
...Take it back. [He says, in lieu of being able to shove that jacket back in his brother's face.] I won't be able to follow you. I can barely move.
[He pauses. Takes a breath, the freezing air like needles in his lungs.]
You've been fine without me before, [a quiet, unbidden admittance, one that he would ordinarily hate were any of his emotions actually functioning now,] so go.