( At the wince, his fingers curl a little tighter around her hand. It's a reflex, impossible to push away when Max is struggling. They've come too far for that, his other hand settling at her waist. )
You're-- writing history w-wrong. It's, um.
( It's not what you think. Because there's only so many things she could think, with the scenario she's piecing together so far. )
tw suicide
You're-- writing history w-wrong. It's, um.
( It's not what you think. Because there's only so many things she could think, with the scenario she's piecing together so far. )