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Clay's fingers are slick with a thick dark liquid and his gun is missing from its holster.

"George." He whispers, knife falling to the ground.

"Get away from me." George sobs as he presses his back against the wall.

"I'm sorry." Clay says softly, and grips George's collar with a white knuckled grip.

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NOT MY WORK!!!

This is by 'purplesunsets' on Ao3

I put an Ao3 fic on here because lots of people don't know how to use it (me lol) or know about it :)

COVER ART BY 'kornflaeke' ON TWITTER