"I'm sorry," Quentin answers, frowning. "That has to suck so much. I've only been here for a couple months, and I already feel like I'm losing my grip sometimes. I miss everyone and home and--"

And that's not helping. So he stops the words anyway, but it's hard to break the train of thoughts, of missing Toby and Raj and Tybalt and the Luidaeg. Of missing his boyfriend. And pizza. Oak and ask does he miss pizza.

And not coughing up flowers and blood. The simple things. Anyway. "I'm Quentin, by the way."