He swallows; hates the way it's audible in the pre-dawn silence, hates the fact he's here, alone, hates the fact the gun safely tucked away in his shoulder holster is all he can think of when faced with someone who - as far as he can tell - is unarmed. He hates the way he wants nothing more than to run away.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-05-02 01:27 pm (UTC)"Hey."