[The night air is thick and slow, and Leonardo counts the steady pulse that vibrates beneath his skin. Three beats, sword hilts turn in his palms. By seven, his body has moved into a defensive position. Eleven, and the silence screams in his ears. At fifteen, he speaks.]
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timeasmymeasure
[Action]
Date: 2010-03-06 05:50 am (UTC)What do you want from me?