[ Stede hovers in that for a minute. The little comfort. The sudden drawing a blank on whether or not tears stain silk, like every fabric he ever had a quiet cry into in his old study has all but vanished from memory. He hopes it doesn't stain. Very different, very tangible sort of ruining. The uncertainty of where to start.
Listening is always easier than talking, when it comes to this stuff.
History's greatest pirate, gently dabbing at his face with a handkerchief. Almost steering clear of him only to end up coming back. Throwing himself away.
no subject
Listening is always easier than talking, when it comes to this stuff.
History's greatest pirate, gently dabbing at his face with a handkerchief. Almost steering clear of him only to end up coming back. Throwing himself away.
Cracked up on the rocks. ]
I don't think I can go to China.