Hoshor Plains I Wear My Sins On My Sleeves

"Thank you." He means it. It was amazing, the simple curative power of belonging. 

Drugs... Colin didn't have many experiences with them. Yes, the occasional painkiller when the pains in his stomach kept him up for the entire night or when he felt that he literally couldn't stand through a sermon, but otherwise, they were as foreign to him as substances from another planet. Donovan smirks again, sharing an inside joke with himself. He's almost envious of that sardonic confidence.

Despite the muggy air, the water is cool and welcoming. Colin is up to his elbows in it, then his shoulders. Dust washes out in small clouds from his fingernails, forearms, chest, accumulated after a long day of travel.

"I was wondering if you'd tell me more about yourself," he blinks away the water from his eyes. "Perhaps about your family. Your past home."