The foot that nudges his own is enough to stir Edward from his self-pity ball. His head lifts slowly, body still curled in on itself, his eyes fixing on Stede across the bath. It doesn't happen immediately, but his own foot does slide to the side, until the length of it is flush against Stede's. Edward otherwise doesn't move, still paralyzed by everything that's transpired.

"You can honestly say that? Even when they make you wear a fucking leash?" he mutters in disbelief.