[He tries for composure as his face parts ways with the sodden canvas of her jacket shoulder. Sniffing, grateful for the rain's masking of his frailty (even if there was no way in hell she could mistake a sob like that) and stifling the shiver of the chill that came with it.
Yet she looks like a goddess even when everything else has turned to drowning rats and mud. With a mug like that Bevvie you should have hauled ass to Hollywood. We might have been neighbors, kid.]
Five months. [He takes an unsteady breath and gives her arms a squeeze.] Sounds like I'm being a real baby, I know, but Beverly this place...Things are seriously wrong here, these people are on the brink of war and we're all getting hit in the crossfire. And it's not regular, Bev, I don't know how much you've seen since you woke up but it's like living in the fucking Twilight Zone. It's all curses and starving monsters and magic wands. I'm telling you, it's a madhouse.
[There's so much she has to know. Stories to tell, and some to edit finely, keep other people's privacy in check and his own in tact, but the bulk of it needs to be said. She can't be safe here armed with the skippy dippy bullshit they'd put on in that little travel fair upstairs. She has to know.
But there's another thing...
He looks over his shoulder. His spilled jacket is gathered and shaken out, for all the good it would do, but he takes her hand again the moment he's slung it over one shoulder.]
Come on. We need to get out of the wet or we'll die of space pneumonia. There's something I have to talk to you about.
:bomb:!!!!!!!!
Yet she looks like a goddess even when everything else has turned to drowning rats and mud. With a mug like that Bevvie you should have hauled ass to Hollywood. We might have been neighbors, kid.]
Five months. [He takes an unsteady breath and gives her arms a squeeze.] Sounds like I'm being a real baby, I know, but Beverly this place...Things are seriously wrong here, these people are on the brink of war and we're all getting hit in the crossfire. And it's not regular, Bev, I don't know how much you've seen since you woke up but it's like living in the fucking Twilight Zone. It's all curses and starving monsters and magic wands. I'm telling you, it's a madhouse.
[There's so much she has to know. Stories to tell, and some to edit finely, keep other people's privacy in check and his own in tact, but the bulk of it needs to be said. She can't be safe here armed with the skippy dippy bullshit they'd put on in that little travel fair upstairs. She has to know.
But there's another thing...
He looks over his shoulder. His spilled jacket is gathered and shaken out, for all the good it would do, but he takes her hand again the moment he's slung it over one shoulder.]
Come on. We need to get out of the wet or we'll die of space pneumonia. There's something I have to talk to you about.