He freezes under her touch. He hadn't heard her move, locked in 1953.
'No, I don'...'
He doesn't know what he's trying to say. But it feels wrong. Her arm around him, and his eyes seeing a door open, the barrel of a gun swinging upwards. Flashes of silver light, and the smell of summer grass.
He doesn't want to break down. She'll make him fall apart. He doesn't want that.
no subject
'...Alex.'
He freezes under her touch. He hadn't heard her move, locked in 1953.
'No, I don'...'
He doesn't know what he's trying to say. But it feels wrong. Her arm around him, and his eyes seeing a door open, the barrel of a gun swinging upwards. Flashes of silver light, and the smell of summer grass.
He doesn't want to break down. She'll make him fall apart. He doesn't want that.