[ Vanitas raises his chin, watching the doctor narrowly— the skepticism and distrust written between the lines of all his confusion. He's known, after all, something is wrong with this place the entire time. He can't feel this pervasive Darkness the way he should, and his own doesn't work the way it's meant to, like something has wrapped around the well in him and throttled it.
The canteen extends between them and hangs there long enough that it seems like Vanitas might not take it at all. Then he takes the half step forward required and snatches it out of the doctor's hand and tips it back in one quick movement.
It's unlike anything he's ever experienced: water touches his tongue and floods him with sensation and his body reacts viscerally. What begins as a sip turns into Vanitas tilting the canteen back with a sudden desperation to chase out the dehydration, spilling water over himself in the process but blind to the sensation against the violent thirst. ]
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The canteen extends between them and hangs there long enough that it seems like Vanitas might not take it at all. Then he takes the half step forward required and snatches it out of the doctor's hand and tips it back in one quick movement.
It's unlike anything he's ever experienced: water touches his tongue and floods him with sensation and his body reacts viscerally. What begins as a sip turns into Vanitas tilting the canteen back with a sudden desperation to chase out the dehydration, spilling water over himself in the process but blind to the sensation against the violent thirst. ]