1 Work by prodchoi
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Summary
I-I have a hard time deciphering what’s real, and what isn’t”
The silver haired man shuffled in place, hands picking at the threads of the leather arm chair. Honey brown pupils looking side to side every once in awhile, as if he feels watched.
“I feel like I have.. hands. hands all over me”
The elder man sitting at the desk across from him shifts in his seat, leaning forward,
“What do the hands do to you, Chan?”
the younger man averted his eyes to the floor and let out a shaky breath
“They hurt me”
He gently grasped his throat, hot tears brimming his lashes
“Help me”