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Liv Moore ([personal profile] living_proof) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs 2018-12-15 07:21 am (UTC)

Oh, Jesus. Okay.

This is bad. I clearly have no idea how bad, but in case the heart-wrenching way Tony had earlier said my name wasn't enough of a red flag, I've got him clasping onto me and I can feel him shaking, a fine tremor that travels all the way up my arm.

And he just... listens to me. No argument. Not even a little one.

Right, sitting down. Which is clearly the absolute correct thing to do here but makes me a little sick to my stomach, because we all know why doctors tell people to sit down.

But I'm not delivering the news of someone's death. Am I?

There's a bench a few steps away, and I direct both of us over, my own knees a little wobbly now. I feel a little steadier once I sit, but it's a really close-run thing. I clear my throat, try to call up my dispassionate doctor facade. I'm not very successful.

"Is this her ring?" I ask, watching him. I can't tell if he wants to take it or is afraid of it, the way he's staring.

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