Work Text:
Edgeworth moved without thinking, the urge to hide away his weakness overpowering even his intense fear of shame. Wright called out to him.; already, he had stopped, jerked back, caught on something. He turned and stared in the eerie winter half-light of the temple garden. A red line now joined him to Wright. Gingerly, he reached out and brushed his fingertips against the fine cord, frost-fringed, suspended between him and that man, followed it to where the thread wound snugly around his arm wonderfully warm. So that's what it was-- what it had always been...that feeling. He was changed.