[Noah's face can't decide if it wants to go pale or flush red, and it settles for an uncomfortably warm pink. His jaw clenches, then releases; his chest feels cold, panicky.]
It was more than a year.
[He swallows, his throat far too dry. He wants to disappear.]
no subject
It was more than a year.
[He swallows, his throat far too dry. He wants to disappear.]
I'm sorry.