#(miles)

from russia with love (1957, Ian Fleming)

it had been so stupid. he wasn't sure why he had done it. he should of just let her go to pee in the bathtub like he had originally planned. but Holden had caved to her whines, and let her outside.  that had been a horrible mistake, because he had lost her. he had lost his dog, in the middle of the storm.  he wasn't even sure why he was here again, trudging his cold, soaked self down the hallway. but he was here none the less. and panic, the panic he hated so much that came with how he felt about storms, and terrible weather in general was forming. trying to shove it down as he wiped at his wet face he knocked on the door. but it was like as he knocked on the door, that lights started to flicker, and he couldn’t help the quiet groan as he wrapped his arms around him as he waited.