[ his jaws have locked by now, too distended to move, falco finds, after trying and keeping a hand underneath his throat to be sure it wasn't numbness his body was feigning. no, it was real, and exertion would bring an indescribable tension to what was already grisly. if falco knew of something when it came to taking care of people, it was wise and carefully placed self-preservation. to show that he was listening, and got all of that embedded into his memory (no problems with that, he's a sharp boy), falco keeps a yearning extension of eye contact, a discreet nod, and counts on angelo to assume he means no harm in his lack of verbal response.
eventually and at the designated safe haven, closer to a pen and paper (or a napkin, or a piece of telephone book or magazine or whatever he could get his hands on), the boy separates for just a moment, holding his hand out in gesture to "wait", grabs what he needs, then bounds up to him after, pulling the hem of angelo's sleeve down gently to get his attention. he hands angelo a ripped sheet that only says: ]
no subject
eventually and at the designated safe haven, closer to a pen and paper (or a napkin, or a piece of telephone book or magazine or whatever he could get his hands on), the boy separates for just a moment, holding his hand out in gesture to "wait", grabs what he needs, then bounds up to him after, pulling the hem of angelo's sleeve down gently to get his attention. he hands angelo a ripped sheet that only says: ]
323 Midwich Street
Thank you