Were it not for halfway expecting something, Crane would've shrieked; instead it was a strained noise of discomfort and his hand shot up to grasp his wrist, the other then to his throat, squeezing, wanting to feel his windpipe collapse beneath the pressure of his fingers and the heel of his palm-- and with surprising calm, he breathed, "Stop it."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-05-06 09:43 am (UTC)