christmas_future: (sealed in an ice-cold tomb)
Ghost of Christmases Yet to Come ([personal profile] christmas_future) wrote in [personal profile] spit_it_out 2012-11-12 11:58 pm (UTC)

The ghost's fingers exhibit a fine tremble as she lets go of Bruce's wrist.

The air against this back of his neck is briefly warm, like a soft, quiet exhale.

But the only sound in the air is that of the rumble and groan of a wooden building settling in the cold.

Milliways -- and the morning -- awaits.

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