Lydia

His stomach twisted again, though this time it had less to do with his physical state and more to do with the little flutters of memory that picked at the edges of his thoughts. He shifted away from her, leaning over the edge of the couch, and closed his eyes, sliding a hand up to his mouth to keep himself from retching. It didn't work, though, and thankfully for John's carpeting, the laced tea that had been in his stomach had apparently been absorbed by his body. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth when he finished, regardless.

"Samuel."