[He leans against Alcuin, taking the comfort the other is offering]

It is strange. I am by no means alone, not with my friends from Paris and the friends I have here, yet it feels as if I am. It isn't as if Grantaire was particularly helpful, only providing cynical and mildly entertaining companionship when drunk and being remarkably bitter when sober and yet...

[Jehan sighs]

I imagine the stress of everything else is not helping. I should not have visited that strange indoor garden of sorts the other day. It was just too disturbing.