[ This time, he doesn’t fight it. Not when he feels so goddamn unmoored, lost yet again in the middle of the crowd. Henry sits up and Gabe doesn’t fight him.
He breathes out, dragging a hand down his face. ]
What’s it matter? Really, what’s it fucking matter?
no subject
He breathes out, dragging a hand down his face. ]
What’s it matter? Really, what’s it fucking matter?