Hell, he's been shot multiple times. By both friend and foe, and every time he felt the vibration of the bullet against him. Feeling his skin and bones literally stop it in its tracks. It hurt, he remembered every bruise he got from them, and the feeling of pulling the flattened piece of metal out of his skin each time.
But when Ken says that last sentence--
I considered just moving.
He stops, reaching the start of the docks and listening to the wood paneling squeak under his boots. It's the only sound made, though, as he lets go of that shoulder.]
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Hell, he's been shot multiple times. By both friend and foe, and every time he felt the vibration of the bullet against him. Feeling his skin and bones literally stop it in its tracks. It hurt, he remembered every bruise he got from them, and the feeling of pulling the flattened piece of metal out of his skin each time.
But when Ken says that last sentence--
I considered just moving.
He stops, reaching the start of the docks and listening to the wood paneling squeak under his boots. It's the only sound made, though, as he lets go of that shoulder.]
Like hell I'm letting that happen.