R sighs then. It comes out in a wheeze of air pushed through his ruined lungs. Explanations aren't coming on the Elvis front - he doesn't have the words or the memories to get past whatever he's gleaned from his LPs.
"Yes. I think...you are," R says, 100% zombie honesty. Cross his Dead heart.
no subject
R sighs then. It comes out in a wheeze of air pushed through his ruined lungs. Explanations aren't coming on the Elvis front - he doesn't have the words or the memories to get past whatever he's gleaned from his LPs.
"Yes. I think...you are," R says, 100% zombie honesty. Cross his Dead heart.