Distantly, I had the thought, if we would but take the fourth mark, it would be easier to ride, but the thought vanished under the press of Richard's body. Him throwing himself around the stage, springing up in the air, and spilling himself back down, every movement fluid and graceful, and amazing. Requiem stood and offered me a hand, but Nathaniel was on the other side, with his hand out. As if it wasn't the face he was expecting to find.
Let go of him, now, and I put a lot of force in the now. You said you wanted to lick the wounds, go ahead. I'd seen this once before. I wanted something softer to touch, something to scratch and hold on to, but there was nothing but the cool wood of the desk, and that wasn't what I wanted to touch.
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