The voices. It has to be voices. Ranuccio knows, when they get too loud, how diffiucult it is to escape them.
Sometimes to stop listening it's the only alternative but then..then you loose yourself.
Talking doesn't help. Calling doesn't help. He reaches out, fingertips barley brushing the dark blond hair. He pets Clay, slowly, sitting down on the wet ground, crossing his legs, preparing himself to wait for a while.
Touch him, pet him, and if it doesn't work, he'll have to lift Clay and carry him over his shoulders, providing Clay doesn't try to kill him. Jason would be greatly pissed at that.
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The voices. It has to be voices. Ranuccio knows, when they get too loud, how diffiucult it is to escape them.
Sometimes to stop listening it's the only alternative but then..then you loose yourself.
Talking doesn't help. Calling doesn't help. He reaches out, fingertips barley brushing the dark blond hair. He pets Clay, slowly, sitting down on the wet ground, crossing his legs, preparing himself to wait for a while.
Touch him, pet him, and if it doesn't work, he'll have to lift Clay and carry him over his shoulders, providing Clay doesn't try to kill him. Jason would be greatly pissed at that.