Breakfast with Hanna is usually a loud and messy endeavor, though today he seems to be lost in thought. It's unordinary for him, and I can't say that I've seen him like this since the night he asked about my possession. I don't know if he minds me watching him as he eats; if he does, he hasn't said anything about it, however, he seems to be avoiding my gaze today. I admit I'm slightly concerned, as he's not scarfing down his food to the point of asphyxiation like he normally does, and instead looks solemn, almost sad.

"Hanna?"

He set the fork he was using to prod at his food aside and sighed when I spoke.

"How do you think George felt when he found out Fred died?"

I blinked.

"Pardon?"

Hanna sighed again and slumped forward onto the table, shoving his plate away.

"I bet he felt awful. Like he'd lost a part of himself or something."

I could only look on in sympathy, not really being able to relate or put forth any input into the subject, as I had no knowledge of whatever it was he was talking about. He frowned, turning to look at me with an emotion that didn't belong on his normally carefree face as I met his gaze.

"Y'know, Ferdinand, you're like, my best friend. I mean, when you stood up to that rage-facing vampire I was kinda happy, but I dunno, man. " It surprises me that he can use such odd vernacular in a serious conversation. At least, I think it's a serious conversation. "Like, what could you have done? You're just a zombie."

I raised my brow as he bit his lip and looked away. I suppose I looked angry, but I didn't mean to; it's hard to know what emotion my face portrays when I show so little of them in the first place.

"What do you mean?" I don't think I sounded mad, but from the way he winced I suppose that's how he took it.

"I mean, I'm sure you're super strong and all! But, remember when we were fighting Adelaide, how she took your arm off like it was nothing?" I nodded; not one of my proudest moments. "Well, what if that other vampire had decided to go ape-shit and mess you up so bad you couldn't be fixed, no matter how much we tried?"

I had to admit; I hadn't thought of that when I got between them, and looking at Hanna it was evident he'd been thinking about it an awful lot. I suppose that there was always a possibility that I, in my rotted body, could become irreparably damaged in an effort to save Hanna. It was an eye-opening revelation, to say the least.

"You're always reminding me to be careful 'n all that, but, Fabio, you gotta be careful too. I dunno what I'd do without you at this point, haha."

"I'll always put you before me, Hanna." Both he and I know that to be true; I'd rather preserve his life than to have him die or endure some other bodily harm, even at the cost of my own un-life. I've already had my chances at life, he deserved his.

"I was afraid you'd say that." He gave a light laugh, but his face betrayed his underlying emotion.

A heavy silence overcame us then, as I mulled over my thoughts. It was weird to see our roles reversed, as I was usually the one to worry over him. I had to rethink a lot of things I thought I had known when it came to Hanna, and it was clear that he was trying to do the same. When I made to speak, he did too. He laughed.

"Ha, sorry. You first."

I pulled up a rickety chair beside him, and he looked up at me curiously when I placed one of my undead hands over his. It was warm compared to mine, and I smiled to myself.

"Hanna," I paused, bringing my thoughts together before I went on. "If it makes you stop worrying, I'll try my best to keep out of potentially maiming situations, but you have to promise that you will, too. I won't hesitate to take a blow for you if it comes to that."

He laughed airily, rotating his arm to squeeze my hand. He was grinning, and I quirked my brow.

"You know just what to say to get me all mushy, don'cha?" I hmm'd, smiling as he plucked at my fingers in thought. "Yea, yea. Yea. I get it. No good worrying about things like that, now, right? Just gotta take 'em as they come!"

He bounced up from the table, his melancholy funk lifting, for which I was glad. I sat at the table as he babbled on about one thing or another, smiling at the sight. When it seemed he'd calmed down enough to speak coherently, he dropped back into his chair and gave me another Hanna brand grin.

"So, that's like, what? Three?"

"Hmm?"

"Smiles." His smile was contagious, but I kept from giving him another tally to mark up. "You like, smiled twenty times back there."

"I thought you said three." I chuckled shaking my head.

"Three, twenty; same thing." He stood to mark up the smiles, and I noticed I was now in the lead, beating Conrad by two. Or twenty.