He looks at Tidus as he muses, just listening and letting the words drift, coming into their own sense of meaning. Tidus most of all, would have a lot to say about the subject of time, now that Roland thinks about it. And it's precisely why he didn't know if he should be gifting it for him to begin with - especially now, of all moments. But there's little regret in Roland's eyes, just that things have shifted now, for better or for worse. He wouldn't have known. Tidus wouldn't have been able to predict it either.

He keeps quiet, just hums deeply, a rumble against his chest. Eventually, he does answer, shifting in his spot on Tidus's bed, a lot cozier than he gave it credit for. "It's yours, regardless." He eventually says, voice still warm and low. "Just thought to try putting in an order, in case the train takes it against you for complaining about clocks for so long." Another gentle nudge, a poke in the direction of humor but he's still thinking, still wondering how they had gotten from throwing footballs and asking Tidus for an exhibition, to sitting in bed pondering about the nature of time and the void they're prisoners to. Or in this case, the irony that the same void is the one that keeps Tidus anchored to them.

When it feels like there is a lull between them, not uncomfortable in the least, Roland will sit further back in, allowing his legs to straighten just enough so that he doesn't accidentally let his boots touch his clean sheets. His mood doesn't quite change, the nervous energy not as heightened as before since the hardest part is over, but there's an uncertainty there. Or a softness that isn't usual of him.

You wouldn't hear it, though. "I've...got something else for you. One last thing. Do you mind looking away, or closing your eyes for just a sec?"