[It's a squirming thing, but it twines around Billy's fingers like string, until Billy is pulling it out, slowly, and then it's there in Billy's hands. It's a light, pulsing between them, like a heart in Billy's hand, only there are strands of it going back into Kavinsky.
They are in the air, in nothing, in the dark with the ocean below them, and Billy is holding Kavinsky's soul. It's peppered with sprays of bright color, beating carefully, and Billy cups it suddenly in both hands.]
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It's warm.
[It's a squirming thing, but it twines around Billy's fingers like string, until Billy is pulling it out, slowly, and then it's there in Billy's hands. It's a light, pulsing between them, like a heart in Billy's hand, only there are strands of it going back into Kavinsky.
They are in the air, in nothing, in the dark with the ocean below them, and Billy is holding Kavinsky's soul. It's peppered with sprays of bright color, beating carefully, and Billy cups it suddenly in both hands.]
You okay so far?