Fitzjames finds himself leaning toward the touch without thinking about it.
He crumples the paper with Strange's question in his hand and reaches up to
put his hand back on Strange's shoulder again.
"Mr. Strange ..." he says. "Jonathan. Where are you?"
no subject
Fitzjames finds himself leaning toward the touch without thinking about it. He crumples the paper with Strange's question in his hand and reaches up to put his hand back on Strange's shoulder again.
"Mr. Strange ..." he says. "Jonathan. Where are you?"