It's hard, with Trowa like this. He's so uncertain, and uneasy, no matter how calm he can keep his voice these days.

Quatre keeps his eyes down on his shoes, as he finishes untying the second one, and tries not to let how he feels show.

"All right," he says, casual, pushing the second shoe beneath the bed and pulling out his loafers, slipping them on. He stands and moves out of the way, to wait for Trowa.