Literature
Won't Be Parted [Spirk]
The man stood by the large bay windows that overlooked the cityscape, seemly more interested in the faint slanted pitter-patter of dark rain that had been pouring for the entire day. His head was bent at a slight angle, and he subconsciously tugged the hood that was over his head. Behind him there was a shuffle of feet, crossing the vanilla carpet to stand behind him. A hot hand, that seemed to sear through the thick cloak the man wore, caressed the back of his spine a bit before a voice belonging to the hand interrupted the bitter silence.
"Jim."
The name was spoken, and yet the man refused to acknowledge the other. His shoulders hunched u