[He fought the urge to sit back down at that, instead stopping behind his empty chair and settling his hands on its back. Made her want to die - it's an unbearably familiar thought, and he can taste it like bile in the back of his throat.
Shaw had made him want to die, many times.
Swallowing, he pushed it back, and met Charles' eyes again.]
[Spam]
Shaw had made him want to die, many times.
Swallowing, he pushed it back, and met Charles' eyes again.]
Did she say anything else?