[the boy is lying with his face smashed into the cushions; he's been there for hours already, his body having finally exhausted itself of that cockroach at the Apocalypse energy it'd been exerting for weeks on end (couples with reminders from Nill to take it easy on the bod, of all fucking things)]
[a tired green eye rolls up to look at -- no, not carol, the baggy]
[and he reaches his unbroken arm out, falling tragically short of it]
Re: text
[a tired green eye rolls up to look at -- no, not carol, the baggy]
[and he reaches his unbroken arm out, falling tragically short of it]