The alcohol was speaking for us. The flood gates opened and I shook my head, holding onto him tightly, even more tightly than he held onto me. Here was my anchor to the past, and he wasn't dragging me down. No, he wasn't dragging me down the way I made it sound to be, he was just keeping me stable until he came to save me. You can't save a ship that is lost as sea unless you can track it down. He's anchored me so tightly to the bottom that I can't move, and I will not move until he's found me. I dug my head into the space between his chin and collarbone, kissing the skin that belonged there, and shook my head again.
"No," I whispered as I spoke truthfully, no...
I expect you'll be gone by the time I get up.
"No," I whispered as I spoke truthfully, no...
I expect you'll be gone by the time I get up.
