❛❛ quit squirmin’ like a lil’bitch silvertain. ❜❜ a hand on her brow what a child! fingers expertly find her link to plug it into johnny’s arm. ❛❛ gun link’s busted to hell, half the sensors are dead ... jesus, might as well spit in my face if this how you gonna treat your arm. ❜❜ fifty years, it’s been fifty years since she last felt the scarred touch of his flesh or the cold of the painted silver metal. her gaze downcast, a sigh. then, a hand that wraps around his unmoving metal one.
* @silvhand, starter call.
