“Let me take you home. Let me take care of you.”
stop : remember to breathe.
despite this ( frequent ) reminder, breath still hitches in his throat. it was her. it always came back to her. the way the moon controlled the tides, she had the same influence over him. one, two, three ... lungs begin to burn and he inhales out of self-preservation only. she would be the death of him, he swears it. slate - blue eyes raise to meet hers as she speaks and he has to remind himself again : keep breathing. he lifts a hand, resting it against her thigh as he begins to speak. ❝ i dun’ know if you wanna do that. i’m a lot of work. ❞ he chuckles softly and sends a prayer to a god he doesn’t believe in that she’ll keep him anyway.
NEW AMSTERDAM : ACCEPTING / @tideraged