five AM on the bathroom floor from the night before

Artorias simply thanked him and so Grimshaw would remain quiet otherwise until his brother would go on to answer his question. It was a long answer, but he supposed a good answer would be and listened well to what he was being told. A single detail wasn't spared and Grim pieced together the parts he somewhat knew of to what he was being told. He hadn't spent much time with Briar when she was still in the Armada, either. When he mentioned their mothers illness, pain and guilt stung briefly but along with everything else he pushed it back and continued to listen. In the way that Briar cared for his brother, he could see that Malachai was doing the same thing although his self deprecating nature only allowed him to think that he was pushing his needs onto his friend despite whatever may be clear to anyone else, apparently Bowen. He wondered if Art would say the same things, confirming in duplicate what he felt inside but couldn't explain. As his brother would continue on, he kept listening though kept his gaze focused in front of him on the bottle that rolled down the steps prior.

Although as he continued to tell their story, Grimshaw couldn't help but understand Briar's side. For just deciding that she wasn't enough and forcing them apart. Is that not what he had just done? More or less, anyway, and the way he saw it. As Artorias spoke about how he felt in her absence, he wondered painfully if Malachai noticed that he was gone. There were nights he spent in the mans bed and nights he didn't, but now that a few nights had passed he could only hope that his presence was missed. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to hope highly.

Most of the rest of Artorias words had been lost, fading into his thoughts as he absorbed everything and tried to make sense of it all. The wine certainly hadn't made it any easier, though this conversation would've never happened without it. Part of him wanted to leave in that moment to go home, though part of him was equally scared. What if he was still mad at him? He couldn't say that he didn't at least enjoy his time visiting the Hallows, even if the familiar hallways were a little too familiar.

His heart started to race the moment the words came from his brothers lips, asking about a special someone. He wasn't sure if it was the thought of Malachai being a special someone or the general anxiety around a question that he didn't even understand the answer to yet. His jaw parted as if he were about to speak but at first nothing came out, unsure of what even to say. Bowen had sounded so certain when they talked, but even repeating those words were difficult for him now. What would he think anyway?

"It's probably nothing." He said after a long pause, the intrusive thoughts returning quickly. Malachai probably wasn't even gay. "You two better hurry up and make me an uncle, though!" He tried to change the subject, breaking his staring contest with the bottle to look over at his brother with a drunken smile, but clear pain in his eyes as if that would be convincing enough.

"Speech."