“Why did you let him kick your ass like that?” Richard asks, floating through bookshelves as he leads Austin towards the library’s cellar door. “I know you know how to hold your own in a fight. You’ve got training -” “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Austin says curtly. The more he’s on his feet and walking, the more he’s starting to feel like he’s been run over by a truck. His ribs hurt from being knocked around and held down on the floor.
austin being emotionally vulnerable 🥺🥺🥺