( Hank's hand shakes against Connor's back. His throat swells with hot emotion, making it difficult to breathe pas the burden of his shame and desperation. His chest vibrates down to his gut, and he, once again, struggles to follow along with Connor's words. He struggles to be present with Connor as the drink promises to unhinge the trapped emotion in his throat. Baby ... please.. He begs Connor, too afraid (or perhaps sensible) to do so outside his mind.
Hank feels like he cannot give Connor the attention he deserves right now. All that he can think about is that liquid gold, the cure to his trembling body. )
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Hank feels like he cannot give Connor the attention he deserves right now. All that he can think about is that liquid gold, the cure to his trembling body. )