[The nearly imperceptible greens in his shadows are coming out now like a new bruise, soft handprints on his face, his chin, his lips. But Jonah is trying to hold it together, trying to stay together - but the hands around him and down his back send him nearly crumpling. Especially when he feels that chill, and the sudden ice piercing into his bad shoulder is almost too much as it runs through the new crack there.
He can't get his eyes to focus just yet, the fog disorienting him, but.]
no subject
He can't get his eyes to focus just yet, the fog disorienting him, but.]
You lied to me.