gutme
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(…) a slurred and barely comprehensible “will..” choking out from the throat of the one in his grasp, weight slowly and clumsily shifting into his lap until he felt a finalising slum of his friend’s shoulders unto himself. greasy black hair spilling over his shoulder like an oil leak, a trembling chest heaving in breaths against his own steady one, deadened cries echoing throughout his body, through his flesh and deep into his bones, making them feel hollow with agony. (…)