Ennis leans in to the touch -- can't help but. He's cold and shaking and his breath is short, and Jack is warm and still and calming, and Ennis squeezes his eyes shut, as if closing them will stop the images in his head, the phantom memories of red and a place he ain't never been.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-06-05 12:24 pm (UTC)