[ Party pulls his knees up to their tangled arms and bows his head, breaths deepening, and he's trying to slow them down. Hearing his name - their secret, it's safe, it's home - makes his breathing hitch, and he pulls tighter, as if he can squeeze all this manic energy out like fucking juice from an orange.
He talks into his knees, dragging in deep breaths, pulled tight: ] What's -- wrong with me --
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He talks into his knees, dragging in deep breaths, pulled tight: ] What's -- wrong with me --