[He should nod--he manages that much--and then offer an off the cuff remark, like 'where's the tea'. But his mind hasn't caught up that far yet. It's still somewhere between the Cage where Michael is screaming, and his next step here, whatever that is supposed to be.
He leans his head against the wall and grips Break's shirt between his thumb and forefinger, concentrating on the feel of it. The very real stitching, the softness that comes with aging in a rough environment like this one. It's aging, but it's real.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-05-24 05:47 am (UTC)He leans his head against the wall and grips Break's shirt between his thumb and forefinger, concentrating on the feel of it. The very real stitching, the softness that comes with aging in a rough environment like this one. It's aging, but it's real.]
Miss me?