( Even now, Gallagher remains a true entity of his path, faithful towards nothing else but the chaos of the unknown. Sunday can’t decipher what it is in his features that still seems impossible to reach. Who is Gallagher, then?

He walks himself just fine, side by side like they’re about to take over Hell. It begins with entering this little bungalow and Gallagher’s room, lived in and messy but that’s to be expected.

Best to not touch anything— who knows where all these things have been. This place is one easy way his OCD could relapse and hit him like a truck. )

What’s an easier way than to ask you to? It’s either that or I take them off for you if you’re going to drag your feet and keep me waiting.

You were willing to undress in the open like some savage, I promise I won’t be making fun of your body, if that’s of any concern.

( As far as he’s able to tell, Gallagher is undoubtedly blessed when it comes to appearances. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to dress. )