[ And fuck him, but it's immediate: even if he's petty enough to go quiet, leave Augustine to fumble in the dark, he can't bear it. He replies like he's desperate for a breath of air.
It's the same tone he's used sometimes, through the years, when he needs to be steady. When he needs to card his fingers through someone's hair and put something back together again, make it all hold for just a little longer. It doesn't come through smooth, on this attempt: he sounds too much like John and too little like God, drawn tight and close with caring too much. ]
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[ And fuck him, but it's immediate: even if he's petty enough to go quiet, leave Augustine to fumble in the dark, he can't bear it. He replies like he's desperate for a breath of air.
It's the same tone he's used sometimes, through the years, when he needs to be steady. When he needs to card his fingers through someone's hair and put something back together again, make it all hold for just a little longer. It doesn't come through smooth, on this attempt: he sounds too much like John and too little like God, drawn tight and close with caring too much. ]
I haven't— I can hear you.