Caliban:
A year ago... you asked me to help you, and... God knows, I've tried... But I can't help you, Logan, not really... if you're not gonna talk to me.
[Logan, sitting beside Caliban, looks down and away from him]
Caliban:
I hear you at night; you're not sleeping; you don't wanna talk about that... Or the booze you're drinking... Or the pus you're wiping away from your knuckles. Or the blood I wash from your clothes. Or the... fresh wounds in your chest; the ones that aren't healing... And I'm pretty sure you don't wanna talk about the fact that you can't read the label on that bottle...
[Logan looks bewildered then takes the bottle to try and read it]
Caliban:
It says 'Ibuprofen'.
[In a fit of anger, Logan smacks Caliban's drink from his hand, shattering the cup]
Caliban:
That was my favourite mug.
Logan:
Stay outta my shit.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:05
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