#selectmute

     brows draw together, he meets ryan’s eyes easily. two years ago he’d squirm anytime those eyes fell on him but now ... the crew was closer than ever despite occasional arguments. the first part seemed a bit harsh but he couldn’t say he didn’t expect something like that.

     the rest was a pretty solid point, but it was almost the opposite of gavin’s problem. for a moment he considered shrinking back and just dropping like he was used to. but something about the air of disinterest helped push him along. “no like, not like that. like the bloody ... all the stuff is nice, four years ago i’d kill for pressed suits and watches worth more than a car.”

    ❝   ‘m here, buddy. ‘m here...  ❞

he wraps his arms around the man’s chest, forehead pressed against the crown of the mercenary’s head. ryan was seated in a chair, legs temporarily strapped to it with zipties to keep him from hurting himself, or others.

there was a visible shake to the boy’s stance, fear gripping at his heart that those strong hands might wrap themselves around his throat again, squeezing the very last breath from his lungs.