[George looks up at her, eyes finally meeting. There's a tremor in his legs, fear still coursing through his veins, but looking at Sarah quells just a bit of it. There's still a voice in his head yelling out for an end, but maybe if he just focuses on Sarah, on how leaving her would be as bad as hurting her...
He steps back up onto the sidewalk, moving towards her at a snail's pace, like he's pushing through cold water. And when he reaches her, he offers out one hand, safely bundled up in the end of his sweatshirt sleeve.]
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He steps back up onto the sidewalk, moving towards her at a snail's pace, like he's pushing through cold water. And when he reaches her, he offers out one hand, safely bundled up in the end of his sweatshirt sleeve.]
... I'm not okay.