[This time it's Fiddleford's turn to move closer and put his hand over Marco's, not content to just talk to him from across the workshop. Words aren't working as well as he might hope so he's going to see if physical comfort might get better results.
He knows 'I'm just tired' is bullshit. Being tired would get you a lost bracket, some typos, nothing like this. He doesn't have the heart to say it.]
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He knows 'I'm just tired' is bullshit. Being tired would get you a lost bracket, some typos, nothing like this. He doesn't have the heart to say it.]
Maybe that's all it is. Maybe you're right.
[He offers Marco a weak sort of smile.]