fran, you . . . ❪ he falls silent. there will never be a good time for true confessions when they live on the precipice overlooking death. gaze averts, and his hand is drawn from ferret and tucked away. ❫ I could never hate you.
❪ silence but he is doing as he's been told. without searching for it, and gaze not moving from the other, his hand finds the ring that sits against his chest on a cord tucked beneath his tunic. ❫ you're a fool, y'know?