Cian nodded once and looked away from Layland's intent gaze. "Sure." He muttered, stepping around his chair and pushing it in, not quite looking at Layland and walking out of the library. He didn't put his books back, but was too tired to try to go back. The energetic outside called, the administration building parking lot. Out there the bright light and warm air would wake him up. Out there they'd be alone. Out there he wouldn't have to worry about others seeing what he could do as long as he could prove it to one person. When it was crowded, he didn't have to concern himself with the masses seeing.

Halfway there he rolled up his sleeves. It got a little stuffy in the south and always wearing long sleeves did make his arms itch. He studied them, as if looking for unusual mark or strange formations, but found none. There were days he had his arms crossed and his nails dug into his skin so hard they drew blood. An issue he had started to try to remedy, though there were no scars to show.