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Summary
Peering at him across the floor, Herman can imagine the soft cadence of Robert's voice in each reply. The gravel at the edge of his words, the sighs of exasperation or amusement, the rumble of his chest when he laughed. He liked it— the noises that Robert made. A nice thing to latch on to during stressful missions or trips to overly loud dive bars. So easy for Herm to pick out of a crowd and follow along.
It was even nicer then that Herman still had the memory of Robert's voice, breathy and wanting, ringing in his ears.
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Or, Herman finds out that talking about his anxiety can come in handy sometimes.
Series
- Part 2 of A Thirst I Never Can Quench