What is it that I don't care about, [The exorcist continues precisely, a surgical cut being made in the warmth and comfort between them. And yet despite that, despite the cool air with which he makes every move, there's a steadiness. It isn't warm, but it's unbending- a different kind of comfort, something that supports, but is not supported.] You? Them?
[He feels the man stiffen of course, and the slow leak of the warmth between them as he stands and leaves his place against him. He finds himself disappointed, confusingly, and thinking it's a shame. Silly. What exactly is a shame about fending off an annoyance?]
no subject
[He feels the man stiffen of course, and the slow leak of the warmth between them as he stands and leaves his place against him. He finds himself disappointed, confusingly, and thinking it's a shame. Silly. What exactly is a shame about fending off an annoyance?]
How did they die out?