[ His fingers twitch. Sometimes, Carver’s thoughts race so fast through his skull it feels like he’s going to die if he can’t move to escape them. Like his skin’s too tight and his bones are going to punch through and so he has to move, to pace, to do something to escape instead of holding still. Pope always hated that. Called it a weakness. A defect. Stand fucking still, son.
He forces his hands to stop. To hold fucking still. ]
Every day, something tries to kill you. You slip for a second, just a second, then you deserve what they do.
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[ His fingers twitch. Sometimes, Carver’s thoughts race so fast through his skull it feels like he’s going to die if he can’t move to escape them. Like his skin’s too tight and his bones are going to punch through and so he has to move, to pace, to do something to escape instead of holding still. Pope always hated that. Called it a weakness. A defect. Stand fucking still, son.
He forces his hands to stop. To hold fucking still. ]
Every day, something tries to kill you. You slip for a second, just a second, then you deserve what they do.