[ The warning is good. The warning helps. He knows that Sypha's hand is coming, and he doesn't flinch when it touches him. For a while, it's too much. Strangling. Suffocating. But he's suffocating anyway, isn't he? (There's glass. There's glass. There's glass.) Slowly, slowly, he tries to time his breaths to those squeezes. It's painful. This can't possibly be the right amount of breathing to do. But Sypha wouldn't lie to him. Wouldn't let him be hurt.
His breathing settles. Carefully, he moves back, shifting so he's sitting instead of resting on his hands and knees. ]
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His breathing settles. Carefully, he moves back, shifting so he's sitting instead of resting on his hands and knees. ]
...-fucked up again.