James "Sawyer" Ford (
milliways_sawyer) wrote2005-07-10 10:08 pm
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Sawyer's walking down the hall to his room, his newly-acquired tube of lotion in his crusty, green right hand. He has to stop after every couple of doors to rest, catch his breath. It's during one of these stops that he realizes that his skin isn't just crusty.
It's scaly.
Like, lizard scales scaly.
He groans and slides down the wall to a sitting position. Resting is nice.
It's scaly.
Like, lizard scales scaly.
He groans and slides down the wall to a sitting position. Resting is nice.
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"It's okay. Go to sleep," she says softly, and her voice breaks a little at the end.
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Cautiously, she crawls off the bed and heads for the door, dimming the light as she does.