...the scent of the incense is oddly cloying... [As Themis had mentioned before.] ...but I do not mind it so much with you.

[He can withstand it any amount of time.

Permission granted, he reaches forward, fingers brushing against his friend's fringe, gently parting it. The feel is more thrilling than he expected; as he grazes digits tentatively against skin, pressing their backs gently against the surface, his heart beats ever more quickly.

As he thought, there does not appear to be any fever... yet for some reason, he starts to feel rather warm.

And, thinking of time...]

....it.... has been some time since we took a seat here, hasn't it?

[Yet the train has made no stops. Surely the next station wasn't so far...]