[ ah, so it's come down to this: trusting himself to comfort a child. his goes from his chest and somewhere into his belly, sinking down into his guts and burrowing his feelings there enough to fulfill the request. lifting himself from the back, he unravels and slinks over the seats to sit himself in the passenger's side. there's a glance out the windshield at the dim daylight of New Amsterdam's reverse schedule.
he holds his bloody hand to the side by the hoodie, keeping it out of sight for the moment. there's a faint frown at the child, like he's not quite sure what to do with him now that he's saved him. ]
Come now, [ he tries to be careful. ] Why don't you come over here?
[ the kid rubs his eyes with tiny fists, reluctant to detach from Jason. oh no the child is crying. oh no. oh no what is he going to do?
especially when the kid uses another hand to grab his hoodie. he would die for this child but somehow that seems easier than comforting the small thing. ]
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he holds his bloody hand to the side by the hoodie, keeping it out of sight for the moment. there's a faint frown at the child, like he's not quite sure what to do with him now that he's saved him. ]
Come now, [ he tries to be careful. ] Why don't you come over here?
[ the kid rubs his eyes with tiny fists, reluctant to detach from Jason. oh no the child is crying. oh no. oh no what is he going to do?
especially when the kid uses another hand to grab his hoodie. he would die for this child but somehow that seems easier than comforting the small thing. ]