|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 8:48 pm
Thirty minutes of trying to find a safe way out and there was still nothing. Michael had powered down shortly after trying to figure out how to get out from being trapped in the old greenhouse, but his phone was naturally dead, and even if it did have power, he was sure there would be no signal.
All that was left was to try and bundle up as much as possible and wait everything out until the morning.
But there was a problem with that. Caspian was with him. They were both hungry and tired and upset about everything that they’d said to each other. Now that Michael had the time to calm down, he was already regretting everything he’d said, not because he didn’t mean what he said, but because he knew how much it had hurt Caspian.
“I don’t believe that, you know,” he finally said, breaking the long period of silence. “I don’t believe you’ll never be as good as I am. I've always told you I'm not that great, anyway.” His voice was quiet and strained, unable to lift his eyes to look at Caspian’s face, too ashamed by his behavior. “I don’t…” Michael started and paused, gritting his teeth together. “I’m trying not to want to control every situation we’re in. It’s just… easier for me…”
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 9:18 pm
Caspian had not helped look for a way out.
He had not wanted to be around Michael, not while the hurt was still like a knife in his chest, not while he wanted to scream and shatter the windows of the damned greenhouse or kick some of the overturned containers. Not while he'd been replaying every word they had said to each other over and over again until it was all that he could think, like some twisted, terrible monologue inside of his head.
He was sitting now, on an upside-down bucket in the back of the biggest room, his coat buttoned tightly up, his arms wrapped around his middle to try and stave off some of the cold. Caspian's phone was not dead, but there was no service, and he only had about thirty percent battery power as it was, which was useless. Outside, the storm was howling, and inside, he was howling too, his mind full of the sound of Michael's snapping, sardonic voice.
Caspian almost didn't hear that Michael had come back, bent over on himself. It wasn't until he spoke that he raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed, still slightly damp, though he wasn't crying anymore. A short, rasping, bitter laugh escaped before he could stop it, almost choking him.
"Please," said Caspian, with a shake of his head, and that hurt too. "In what way are you not better than I am? Everything about you is - is so much more." His voice felt raw and hoarse. Caspian swallowed hard, looking away again, back at the leaf strewn floor.
"Easier doesn't make it right, y'know."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 9:38 pm
Everything between them was still tense, and Michael tried not to flinch when he heard the short, bitter laugh escape. He hated this. They hadn’t actually fought about things to this point before, to the point where Caspian was obviously completely miserable and had been crying and Michael was restless and on edge and everything was just horrible.
“I know that,” he said, trying not to snap but the words came out a little more clipped than he’d intended. Great, just one more thing to upset Caspian. <********, just… Cas… please,” he practically begged, lifting his shivering hands lift to scrub through his hair and then back down over his face. “You’re better at not being an a*****e,” he tried. Tried. Because he did want to try. They were still wounded and covered in blood and arguing, and he couldn’t figure out what was worse.
“You’re better at being patient with me,” he tried. Because he really meant it. Fighting with Caspian was on the lowest of his priorities, and he had no idea how to fix what he’d screwed up. He probably sounded ridiculous and like he was trying too hard to fix things, which was probably just making things worse, but all he could think about was how obviously hurt Caspian must be and that his own heart wouldn’t stop hurting.
Frustrated and unable to think of something else to say, Michael did the only thing he could think of, which was to limp over to where Caspian was sitting, plop down on the ground in front of him, and bury his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” he said, which was more of a muffled sob, hoping that Caspian could tell how miserable he was because surely that would make it better if he knew how much he hated himself for what he’d said and did.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 9:47 pm
He couldn't quite stop the flinch that flickered across his face at the sharp note in Michael's voice, Caspian grinding his teeth together to keep from saying anything stupid. The tension was still too much, too thick, too everything, and he was half tempted to test his luck by breaking a window and crawling out just so he could stop feeling so damned miserable.
Another bark of laughter, though this one was directed at himself, less so at the actual irony of the sentiment. "You're not - why do you keep assuming that you're an a*****e? You may do some shitty things sometimes, but it doesn't mean that you're a shitty person."
His cheek was throbbing. So was his leg, which Caspian was definitely ignoring, because he couldn't think about that when everything else felt so raw and open in front of him. Their relationship felt fragile, stretched thin enough to snap at any moment; he felt sick with the knowledge that it could, the fear gripping Caspian's heart like an icy hand around it.
Footsteps shuffled towards him, then stopped, and Michael was in front of him, sinking to his knees, face in his hands. Caspian felt some of the coldness ebbing, just a little, his throat tight, his eyes starting to burn. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel some of the tears that kept threatening to gather on his lashes, swallowing hard enough to hurt.
Deliberately, forcefully, he made himself not reach out for Michael, even though he was desperate to do exactly that.
"Sorry for what?" Caspian asked quietly, voice ragged, but there was no anger or bitterness in his voice, just a soft weariness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 10:50 pm
Why Caspian insisted that Michael wasn’t an a*****e was completely beyond his comprehension. After everything he’d said and done, Caspian still insisted that he wasn’t a shitty person. And Michael loved him for that. Really, truly, loved him for being so willing to overlook his flaws to see him for something he might be underneath the layers of self hate and misery.
“For making you feel like I want to control you. For bullying you and treating you like an idiot. For bossing you around and not letting you do things at your own pace.”
Months ago, Michael would have liked to think he wouldn’t cave so quickly. He wasn’t the kind of person to ever apologize for his actions unless he knew he was wrong. And while he still believed some of the things he’d said were true, they definitely weren’t justified and it wasn’t worth the heartache he was sure he caused Caspian.
“I’m sorry for twisting your words around, for throwing everything back into your face,” he said, his voice muffled with his face still hidden in his hands, unable to convince himself to look up at Caspian, too ashamed. “You are better than me, Cas. And yes, I can see that you've been trying. I always have.”
He didn’t know what good it was going to do to apologize, but if someone needed to make the first move for them to keep everything they had pieced together, he was absolutely willing to throw his pride away for their sake.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 10:24 am
A part of Caspian wanted to say <******** this and just forget the whole mess and let bygones be bygones. But he couldn't do that - they couldn't do that. Not after everything had already been said, not after all they had ******** things up and now needed to fix all of the issues that had apparently lain somewhat dormant in their relationship.
A breath eased out of Caspian, slightly shaking and visible in the chill air, his arms still wrapped around his midsection. "I'm not saying that you always do it," he mumbled, turning his face away slightly, his teeth worrying at his lower lip unconsciously. "And I'm not saying you need to spend all of your time catering to me, or just giving me whatever I want."
He shifted a little, jiggling his legs in an attempt to stamp out some of the cold that kept easing into them whenever he held still for too long. Caspian didn't like this - didn't like the tension, or the hurt, or the anger, or the fact that Michael was practically prostrating himself at Caspian's feet because he wanted to fix things so desperately. He shouldn't have to - neither of them should have to go that far.
"I just want - " Caspian's voice was rough, slightly strained. "I want us to be equals and that's never gonna happen."
It was a childish hope, a dream that would never be accomplished. Caspian could hear the plaintive sound of his own voice, galling him into a flush of embarrassment and resentment directed at himself; the bitter desperation that would never be realized. He could not stand as Michael's equal in so many ways that sometimes he felt buried under the weight of them all.
"I can't even start to move forward when I have no footing underneath me. And - " Caspian swallowed hard. "It wasn't about trust, Michael, it never was. But you - you do have this...controlling side of you, and while sometimes I like it, sometimes I just..."
It was hard to get the words out. He felt strangled by them. "Sometimes I just wonder if I'm not ever going to be good enough for you, not because you see it that way, but because I see it that way, and every time you try to take control of a situation that I think I can handle, it just drives it in a little deeper."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 12:19 pm
Part of him hoped that apologizing would be enough, that Caspian would just forgive him and they could move on. Once again sweeping everything that caused these arguments under the rug with no real resolution. If he asked himself if he really, truly meant it when he’d asked Caspian to marry him… his heart told him yes, but there was still a part of his brain that told him he was not doing Caspian any good by putting him into that kind of situation, by keeping him tied down with something like marriage.
He tried not to flinch a little at everything Caspian said, but it was difficult to not see just how everything he was doing was affecting Caspian in return. Even Peter had told him before that he could be rather controlling and manipulative, and now that Caspian was pointing it out too, it just made everything seem so much worse.
“Would you rather I just… step back…?” he asked quietly, finally pulling his hands away from his face so he could look up at Caspian, shifting so he could slide his jacket off from his arms so he could offer it to his fiance. “I’ve got this sweater, I’m fine,” he quickly said before Caspian could argue. “I’ll let you know if I get cold, I promise. You’re shivering, Cas…”
Michael didn’t intend to say all that as a distraction or to avoid the conversation, but he realized Caspian might think of it that way. He was still stupidly head over heels for him, and knowing that he was hurting Caspian hurt him too.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said as he continued to kneel in front of Caspian, wanting to reach out to him, but knowing they really needed to talk. If only they could be somewhere more comfortable instead of where tensions were high and they were hungry and cold.
“I don’t think of you as… lesser than myself, Cas. If anything it’s the other way around. I feel like I need to reach your level of patience and understanding. I still have a lot of things I hate about myself that I’m trying to overcome. You know who you are and you haven’t let people hold you back… but me? I’ve made myself live in the shadow of others for so long… Trying to control situations is… sometimes I feel it’s all I have left,” he tried to explain, but he didn’t know how much of it made sense. There were too many things floating around in his head at once, so he was sure Caspian would just think he was rambling about nonsense.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 2:39 pm
it was so very hard to keep this up; to keep reminding himself that they needed this. It was equally as hard to keep reminding himself that this was not the end, no matter how despairing and painful and agonizing it felt to even formulate the words in order to talk to Michael.
This isn't an end, it's just - it's a moment. We're trying to figure things out.
This is not the end, we are not breaking up.
Maybe if he told himself that enough he'd believe it.
Caspian heard the hesitancy in Michael's voice; he still wasn't looking at Michael, Caspian's head turned slightly away, biting his lip so hard that it was hurting a little. "No," he said, and it came out too fast, in a rush, his heart aching in his chest. "No, I - I don't want - "
It took him a moment to realize that Michael was holding out his jacket. Caspian's eyes slowly focused on it, then flicked over to Michael, and for once he didn't argue, but reached out, slowly, and accepted it, unwinding his arms from around himself and sliding them carefully into the sleeves of the jacket.
"...thanks," he mumbled. It was still freezing, but it at least took the chill off of things. And the jacket smelled like Michael; he had to resist the urge to bury his face into it and inhale the familiar, heartwarming scent even as he wrapped his arms back around his stomach.
He gave a half sort of shrug. "I didn't...I was trying not to bring you down with me. ******** knows I've already given you a shitton of things to deal with already, I didn't want to add one more."
Caspian gave a small, bitter laugh. Ludicrously, embarrassingly, he felt like crying, the corners of his eyes stinging, but he forced that away, taking several deep breaths that shook in his throat. He was focusing on somewhere to the left, trying to ignore the slow beating of his own heart.
"It's not," he said quietly, and his voice trembled, just a little. "It's not - all you have left. I know what you've been through. I know what you've lost, and I - " The tremor grew slightly, and Caspian reeled in the emotions, swallowed them back. "I don't want you to be anyone other than yourself, Michael. I just want you to - to let me be myself too. You don't - you don't have to control me, or other situations just to feel like that's what you have, you have - you have so much more than that."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 3:20 pm
It was painful, and worst of all Michael knew it was something that had to be done. He knew that if he did not get himself out of whatever this was that kept him from letting Caspian in, it might never work out for the two of them. And Michael wanted nothing more than for things to work out.
He was already too tied to Caspian, his life too intertwined with Caspian’s that he was sure he wouldn’t know what to do without him other than waste away. It all sounded rather pathetic in his mind, so he didn’t say it out loud, not wanting Caspian to think he was as desperate as he felt.
Caspian taking his jacket without argument helped to ease some of the tension in Michael’s shoulders, and he continued to watch him even as he wrapped his arms back around himself. He wanted to reach out to him, but couldn’t. Not when they were still talking. Instead, Michael kept his hands down on his thighs, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.
“I know,” he said softly, though his eyes were now lowered to his hands, his jaw clenched tight. His fingernails needed to be repainted. The black with just a small shimmer of sparkle was chipping and needed to be touched up. It was easier said than done; to be himself. He never had a reason to try and overcome his insecurities and faults until he’d started falling for Caspian. Until then he was just moving through life not really caring. Waking up was just something that happened.
“I don’t feel like I have more than that,” he admitted through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how to be myself, not really.”
This was dangerous, he knew. He felt as though his heart was being exposed, and he was always so afraid of what Caspian would think, the more he knew about him.
“I want you to be yourself, I do,” he continued, hoping Caspian knew how much he wanted to show he supported him. It wasn’t just the nails. It wasn’t just the words of encouragement when it was obvious that Caspian wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. Michael wanted it to be more than that, and if doing whatever he could to not control him or his life, if that would make Caspian comfortable, then that’s what he would do.
“I was not - in a very good place for a long time, Cas,” he said, not knowing why he kept talking because it would only make things worse, he was sure. “You changed that. You made things better for me… Since I met you, I haven’t even seriously thought about…” but he stopped again and shook his head and drew in a deep breath. “I need you, Cas,” he said, instead, still too much of a coward to explain himself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 6:57 pm
There was a mantra running through Caspian's head; a continual heartbeat of stay calm, remind yourself that he is not leaving you, you are not breaking up, this is not the end, this is merely a fork in the road, and you're just choosing which way to go, it's okay, it will be okay -
It still felt hard to breathe. Caspian tugged Michael's coat more securely around him, and it almost felt like Michael's arms, the achingly familiar scent curling around him, soothing the pain in his chest. He gave a fervent shake of his head, Caspian's hair fluttering from side to side, glimpses of blue and purple under the black.
"It's not - that's not all you have, you've got - " Caspian waved a hand, the sleeve of the jacket draping too long over his fingers. "You've got your family, as weird as they are, and your job, and I know it's not really what you want, but it's something. You've got being Sess, you've got people that depend on you - and don't tell me you don't, because even if it's not me, it's others."
He dragged in another breath. His lashes felt heavy and wet, Caspian blinking slowly, the cold of the atmosphere almost as cold as the tension he could still feel thick between the two of them. But it was thawing, slowly but surely; it was starting to splinter, break away, until there was reason and care and heart and love behind it, and Caspian grabbed desperately for it, his heart in his throat.
"You're in - " He swallowed hard. "You're in a good place now."
I need you.
Caspian closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, finally, for the first time in their conversation, turning his head to look at Michael, his expression pained.
"...stand up," he said quietly, after a moment.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 8:07 pm
He wasn’t trying to be stubborn about things. He wasn’t trying to seem as though he was ignoring what Caspian was telling him, the things he pointed out and explained to him. It wasn’t as though he thought Caspian was just saying what he was saying, that he didn’t really believe it himself and was just saying it for Michael’s benefit. He wasn’t trying be as pathetic as he felt.
But instead, it was as though the thoughts and feelings were ingrained into him, forcing him to believe that somehow, some way, he would never be good enough for Caspian, or for anyone, and that one day Caspian would realize that and Michael would have no one.
He wasn’t entirely sure what scared him more; Caspian leaving him because he decided he really wasn’t worth the effort, or Caspian dying.
“I know,” he said instead, because even if he was sure Caspian would know he was just saying it, he also wanted to at least seem like he was trying. Because he was trying. He just needed to find a way to convince himself.
And he hated it, too. Because he’d managed to make everything about himself. To turn the conversation around from how Caspian felt to how pathetic Michael was. It wasn’t intentional, and he was about to open his mouth to try and apologize, but when he lifted his eyes, he met Caspian’s gaze and froze.
All he could do was stare, his own heart twisting at the pain he could see on Caspian’s face. And when Caspian told him to stand up, Michael slowly rose from where he was kneeling, biting back the pain that came from putting pressure on his untreated leg wound.
Michael stood before Caspian, looking worse for wear. His shoulders were slumped in defeat, his expression mixed with confusion and concern and distress, his clothing not too rumpled thanks bearing the attack as Sessrumnir, but there was blood now soaked into the denim of his jeans, and his hair was still matted with the drying blood from the wound to his head. The blood on his face was at least dry, although uncomfortable.
It was cold in the greenhouse and he shivered as he waited. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he kept them by his side, watching and waiting to see what Caspian was going to do. Hoping he wasn’t still mad enough to hit him and just needing a better target.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 18, 2017 6:39 pm
Slowly, slowly, he was starting to unwind. The thick, painful tension that had been between them was still there, but it was starting to thaw, pieces of it steadily breaking away, because the more they talked, the more things began to make a little more sense.
It was hard; Caspian felt the weight of everything they had discussed - and not discussed - bearing down on him, filling his lungs and his mind and his heart and his thoughts with possibilities and confusion and consequences of it all, but he - they - needed this. Michael had to understand.
And so did Caspian, because this was not just about him. This was about both of them. Remember that. Remember it's not about who is right and who is wrong.
That was hard too.
Caspian swallowed hard as Michael stood, slowly, a little unsteadily. He looked battle worn and just as tired as Caspian felt, scratches and bruises marring his figure in different places than the ones on Caspian, but no less painful or aggravating. Caspian was reminded of just how big Michael was; how tall, how muscular, how deeply imposing he was to probably anyone who did not know him as well as his family or Caspian did.
Slowly, Caspian got to his feet as well, clumsily and shaking a little, less from the cold and more from the nerves. He hated having to submit himself to this, but it was the only way he could think of; pushing the box he'd been sitting on over so that he could stand on top of it, so that he could be at the same height as Michael.
So they could be face to face without Caspian having to look up at him for once.
They were only a foot's length apart. Caspian's eyes flickered as he let his gaze trace over Michael's familiar, strong jawed face.
"I love you," he said quietly, and his heart was in his throat, his pulse quickening. "I'm not gonna stop loving you. You have me, for the rest of your life and after. So let me have that life with you, not behind you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jan 18, 2017 8:47 pm
For a moment, Michael wasn’t sure what Caspian intended to do. He moved the box, and then stood up on it, facing him with their eyes level. Michael knew how insecure Caspian felt about his own appearance, why he always wore long sleeves even in the scorching heat of summer, why he put on that flippant, cheeky grin, and showed such little regard to rules (and the law) if it meant being able to express himself.
How hurt Caspian had been when he must have realized his friends weren’t really his friends, when people made fun of him for how he looked or acted, or teased him about his name. How stubborn and reckless he was; a brat most of the time, and the rest of it he was the most patient and understanding person Michael had ever met.
And Michael loved every bit of him.
He could see quite clearly the determination in Caspian’s eyes, lashes still glistening with tears, tense with the pain he felt, both emotionally and physically. Caspian’s voice was thick as well, as though holding back the emotions that threatened to overtake him.
And he could feel it himself; a dam breaking inside him, because every time he tries building it back up to carefully control his emotions, Caspian finds a way to break it down and reveal him for who he really was.
Although he didn’t step back, Michael did lift his hand up to his face as if trying to hide the wave of emotion that seemed to rush through him, trying not to feel stupid and pathetic, especially since at his new height Caspian could probably easily see his expression. He was a grown a** man of thirty-one, and he was getting weepy over his fiance telling him he loved him. While standing on a box.
It should have been ridiculous. It should have made Michael laugh or make some snarky comment about anything to avoid feeling like this. Because that was what he usually did when things got too emotionally strained. Because he didn’t know how to deal with his own emotions that he’d kept locked away for his whole life.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly, his fingers covering his stupidly wet eyes mostly from view while his other hand remained by his side. “But <********> I need you…”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 19, 2017 5:32 pm
At this height, Caspian could see everything. He could see Michael's anxious, eyes, the cuts that had finally stopped bleeding, the bruises beginning to form along his strong jawline. He could see the way that his chest rose and fell, the way that his gaze seemed to stare straight through Caspian, because there was no one else in the world who knew him the way that Michael knew him. There was no one else in the world who would ever know him the way that Michael knew him, even as Michael tried to hide his own expression from view, his voice tight with emotion.
Caspian reached out a hand and with trembling fingers, slowly pulled Michael's wrist down, uncovering his gaze once more. His palms slid up, pressing against Michael's cheeks, and then, heedless of injuries, he was yanking Michael forward, Caspian kissing him hard, desperately, his breath coming out in shallow sounds, fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of Michael's neck before he drew back, chest heaving.
"I already told you," Caspian said thickly, and he swallowed hard. "I don't care if you think you don't deserve me, because you do. How long have you gone through life thinking you're not worth anything? How long have you watched other people get s**t and you nothing? Isn't it about time that you realized that you do deserve good things to happen to you? Isn't it about time that you accepted that you deserve me? Because you've had some s**t go down in your life, and so have I, and ******** if there are two people who deserve each other more than we do, Michael Gallo."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jan 20, 2017 3:25 pm
Caspian’s hands were freezing, enough to jolt Michael out of the pool of self loathing he was wading into, as though trying to submerge himself into something familiar and unchanging. His eyes shone with the tears he couldn’t keep back as Caspian’s hands took hold of his face and kissed him.
And it was like breathing life into him. The desperation was there, but so was the sincerity and patience and everything he’d grown to love about Caspian. Grown to need. No matter how frustrating Michael was, or how stupid he was being, or how insensitive of Caspian’s feelings he acted, Caspian was always there to stubbornly stand his ground and hold on.
He was his lifeline, keeping him from drowning.
All Michael wanted to do was to look away, to hide his expression, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look away from those blue eyes that seemed to be looking into his very soul. The dam was still breaking. Months of Caspian trying to convince him that he deserved him and the love he gave to him, and it was as though finally, finally, after going through everything they’ve been through, including that night, Michael was finally realizing for the first time that no matter what he did, Caspian would be there.
Caspian, who was like him in so many ways, who understood him and knew him more than anyone had before, was standing before him, injured and cold and probably hungry and exhausted, but he was once again saying everything Michael needed to hear at the moment he needed to hear it.
And he was finally seeing that it was okay for him to have something good in his life. It was okay for him to not hate himself and open up his heart. To trust that Caspian knew what he was doing and wouldn’t do anything with the intention of leaving him, because they both needed each other.
They both deserved each other.
Michael leaned forward, too overwhelmed with confusing emotions bubbling up inside him to speak, his forehead pressed to Caspian’s as his hands lifted to clutch at Caspian’s sides, trying to breathe properly and stop the tears from spilling. He felt like a child for crying like this, but he’d also never really had the chance to be a child, his emotions repressed because he was supposed to be strong and dependable and capable and how could anyone think he was able to handle himself if he cried like this?
“Cas,” he choked back a sob, his fingers tightening onto the fabric of his clothes for a moment, and then shifted to wrap his arms tighter around him, his head lowering to Caspian’s shoulder to keep him from being able to see his pathetic, tear streaked face.
“I’m sorry… I’m - s-sorry,” he could barely breathe, shaking his head as he did so because he didn’t know what else to say to admit that everything Caspian said was right.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
