[ his grip is iron and unyielding, arms heavy and steady despite the occasional shudder, adrenaline or pain or emotion, even he can't tell. He could crush this boy like an egg, break him like so much tinder and twigs and all it would take is a little effort, a little intent.
With a shaky breath, he lowers his head, pressing a bruised cheek against tangled matted hair.
I messed up he thinks, through the stacatto pulse beating loud in his ears. He won't trust in me like he used to. ]
Re: action
With a shaky breath, he lowers his head, pressing a bruised cheek against tangled matted hair.
I messed up he thinks, through the stacatto pulse beating loud in his ears. He won't trust in me like he used to. ]