#(grayliam)

≡ New York. The city that never slept bustles with holiday joy, snow flutters against the warmth of his skin that was slowly turning to chill. His skin shivers as ice melts against the hair that stood on his arms, he hadn’t felt snow or rain on his skin in fourteen months. Four-hundred and thirty one days aboard the ISS as a station scientist. Six hundred thirteen thousand, two hundred minutes of anti-gravity, exploration, nausea, and excitement to have the opportunity to study and work in a place that was specifically designed for the work he did. But no moment, in that time, compared to the nausea that sloshed around in his stomach at the thought of coming face to the man he had left behind. It slithered, exploring the lining of his stomach in search for an escape, fingers ticking against his thigh with the burn at the knot of his jaw. Perhaps the sway in his knees wasn’t gravity pushing on weak muscles, perhaps it was the feeling he normally got in his presence. In three weeks, his body had adjusted, but just barely; he had thrown up twice in the last forty-eight but he would call that progress. Ice blue stare down, his body rigid, a sigh, brain searching for a reason to leave and pretend that he’d forgotten about it all. However, when the tips of shoes cross his line of vision, he swallows in the look upward. “I uh...I heard about these two guys who walked into a bar....the third ducked...” a hint of a smile borders the cross between face and mouth, his lungs willing him to give a chuckle. @warriorliam