[He sees what she wants just as he sees the way her lip trembles. In the back of his thoughts, he thinks of their song, and swallows the urge to hum, to soothe her fears.
His thumb strokes over her knuckles instead, and he never breaks eye contact, barely blinks.]
We both know you would use a knife. You are a hunter.
[She would gut him like she gut Nick Boyle. The unwashed ginger was practice. Will is the goal.]
spam
His thumb strokes over her knuckles instead, and he never breaks eye contact, barely blinks.]
We both know you would use a knife. You are a hunter.
[She would gut him like she gut Nick Boyle. The unwashed ginger was practice. Will is the goal.]