[ Agitation breeds agitation in turn. He realizes his misstep too late, that there's a difference between them he hadn't anticipated, although it's not a bad one, necessarily. There's a shifting of cloth, the muffled click of a metal fidget.
Is there any of him left? It felt like there was once, a small, skittish something behind his ribs, but not tonight. Tonight his breath comes in heavy half-incredulous exhale through his nose. ]
voice; private
Is there any of him left? It felt like there was once, a small, skittish something behind his ribs, but not tonight. Tonight his breath comes in heavy half-incredulous exhale through his nose. ]
You must be a hell of a lot stronger than me.