There is something. Murmurs. Low words spoken in a kind of melody. In the dark, in the unknown space between emotions, they come as comforting. Warm. The pounding in his head subsides, and like a kindness, Neil feels more like something again. Something he will never get back again, but it's enough.

Just enough.

He exhales on a sound, his body tensing as he climaxes. It subsides, of course, as it always does, and Neil slowly settles into a boneless state, his eyelids remaining half-open.