The noises twisting out of York are wretched, almost inhuman. Deep, full throated cries that Taper into wounded sobs, fingers clawing at the sheets. It hurts- everything too sharp, like ground glass under his skin, like needles under his nails, like fire in his veins. Words start to form, broken and begging.

"Please, please-" make it end, bring the sweeter warmth back. Make it good again, not this-