Philosophical Ponderings [For ofthecubs]

It's midday, but Andrew is curled up in the corner of his couch with the lights in his room all off, hands pressed unconsciously against the sides of his head as though he's trying to squeeze the thoughts currently sending him into this moment of too-intense contemplation out of his brain.

Really, his mind is always running in a way that leads him to this sort of tailspin, but usually he's able to keep it at bay through work or distracting himself by spending time with Argine or training with Edgar or talking poetry with his cousin. Sometimes, though, there are flare-ups, and nothing's really able to stop him from falling into the trap that is his own head.

There are, however, certain things-- or people-- that are able to pull him out again.