( There it is again, the sharp slicing between his ribs. Geto reaches out, grasps him by the wrist to stop that jabbing fork. Beneath his fingers the skin is warm and when he shifts his touch to dig the tips between the tendons he can feel a steady pulse.
It feels wrong to think it might not be. )
You didn't have to follow my lead in everything, Satoru.
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It feels wrong to think it might not be. )
You didn't have to follow my lead in everything, Satoru.