[ And he reaches for one of her bottles of yoghurt, splitting the load as they make their way up to their destination. Even the air tastes different here; it's missing the acrid scent of gunpowder, the grease under the veneer of opulence.
He could get used to it, but still— it isn't quite home. ]
no subject
[ And he reaches for one of her bottles of yoghurt, splitting the load as they make their way up to their destination. Even the air tastes different here; it's missing the acrid scent of gunpowder, the grease under the veneer of opulence.
He could get used to it, but still— it isn't quite home. ]
Hey. Can I ask you something?