I don't know, we're pretty much working on a who the fuck knows school of what happens next.

[He reaches for Kavinsky's hand, and holds it to the light. Every time Billy's fingers move it lets off tiny bursts of light.

He stares at it a little more. Maybe he thought it would be ugly, too. Or strange. Damaged. It looks fine. It looks perfect.

But then Billy doesn't have a lot to compare it to.]

I don't think it can just float around on its own. I mean. I think I would need to make a vessel to move it further away from you. It keeps pulling back to your chest.