[the grip on his arm pulls his attention back like a tether, grounding, and Salieri closes his eyes, his grip on the score turning clutching as he tries to take a slow, deep breath]
Yes. Yes, I....I can, I'm....[he swallows hard, focusing on the hand on his arm, the bench he's now sitting on, his feet on the ground. The music continues, but quieter, softening with the sound of the quiet sobs of Mozart's wife that accompany it.]
I apologize. [at least he is able to get that out, though his voice is hoarse]
no subject
Yes. Yes, I....I can, I'm....[he swallows hard, focusing on the hand on his arm, the bench he's now sitting on, his feet on the ground. The music continues, but quieter, softening with the sound of the quiet sobs of Mozart's wife that accompany it.]
I apologize. [at least he is able to get that out, though his voice is hoarse]