I'm going to put a curse on you that makes you vomit slugs every time you apologize for no reason from here on out.

( holding fox's hand still, he leans his opposing elbow on his knee, bringing himself forward and basically as far away from fox as possible, without dropping that small bit of contact. it's a little too close for comfort, is all — all this talk of death and dying. harry used to reflect on it frequently, for however many minutes in a day there are.

now? he's found something special to live for, so he presses the inevitability of his death deep, deep down, where he can almost forget. he cannot forget the sight of mingyu's arm, though, or all the memories it stirs. )

He did. It was a little disturbing.

( "a little", and harry tosses his gaze back to fox, sharply. )

So, how're we going to fix it?

( he can't really work up the energy to save himself, but — fox, you're on thin fucking ice for this particular martyr's latest project. )