Jedao opens it, and he just - he feels warm, all the way through, just like he does every time he does laundry and thinks of Edwin, just like he didn't, then, because Edwin was feeling it for him. He feels like some of the awful knotted-tight stuck feeling inside him every since the crash tugs gently apart.
"It's perfect, Sunshine," Jedao tells hims softly. There's no wavering or flinching as he looks at it - those other wild dimensions are where his kind once made their home. Even if he knows he'll have to be careful not to leave it in the hamper.
Edwin hides his face a little more securely, pleased and showing it with a little psychic trill instead of looking at Jedao. He feels weird, he's felt weird for days, and even the triumph of making Jedao feel good has a simmering anxiety under it, as though it could have gone wrong.
"At least now you've got a pair again. Or I could make the other one."
Jedao pets him idly, stroking down Edwin's head and back, scratching with his fingernails the way he would with a cat who liked firmer scratches, a specific grounding touch.
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"It's perfect, Sunshine," Jedao tells hims softly. There's no wavering or flinching as he looks at it - those other wild dimensions are where his kind once made their home. Even if he knows he'll have to be careful not to leave it in the hamper.
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"At least now you've got a pair again. Or I could make the other one."
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"Do you like knitting, so far?"
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"It's not bad. I'm not-- It's hard to not cheat when I get frustrated and make it fix itself."
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"I would probably feel the same way," he admits.