The longer Anson went unfound, the more Kingsley had to accept that he might not find his boyfriend alive.
He’d tracked down (with Malcolm’s help) the most... passionate of Anson’s fan base, and as far as he could tell none of them knew anything that actually mattered. Sure they knew a scary amount about the man he loved but they didn’t know where to find him and everyone they pointed the finger to pointed it back at someone else. By now he’d chased down what seemed like a statically improbable number of people with Anson’s number tattooed somewhere on their body, spoken to every teammate, and even cried on the Appleby Arrow’s manager. He didn’t feel any closer to Anson.
“All I need is one good lead.” He told Adelaide, morose. “Just one.”
@adelaideboots
