[ ... he lets go, finally. the desperation in him dying down to something colder.

instead he reaches to touch their face. quietly trailing down, as if to commit them to memory. his fingers find themselves at their throat, ]


I won't forget you.

[ it's better this way. it's easier. this is fine, this is what they want isn't it, and there's no other way there is no other way he has to l e t g o ]