Date: 2008-01-28 04:50 am (UTC)
watchmakers_son: (forgive me father)
"Stop," he wheezes. Every word's laborious, choked. "Stop it."

The pain's swimming back up; so is a sudden, acute nausea that grabs hold and makes him buckle against the bed. Black spots seep across his eyes.

"Please."

And then there's no breath left to say anything else.
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Gabriel Gray

November 2010

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