[ Ignoring the existence of the elevator and the fact that it's just two sets of stairs, he thinks he can probably make it up by himself with the help of the handrail to support his weight, but... ]
...It'll be slow. I'll have to hold on a long time.
[ But he's getting up— first to grab a sheet of wax paper to lay over the sketch and weigh it down so the pencil doesn't smear and he'll be able to come back and finish his work— but he can walk well enough. The deep ache, the focus on putting one foot before the next, it feels like something he's done time and time and time again.
He's never had somebody at his side, though, opening the door for him. And when he steps through, he turns around and holds his hand out. ]
i already forgot what it was and had to look in my plurk, help
...It'll be slow. I'll have to hold on a long time.
[ But he's getting up— first to grab a sheet of wax paper to lay over the sketch and weigh it down so the pencil doesn't smear and he'll be able to come back and finish his work— but he can walk well enough. The deep ache, the focus on putting one foot before the next, it feels like something he's done time and time and time again.
He's never had somebody at his side, though, opening the door for him. And when he steps through, he turns around and holds his hand out. ]