aileen

"Ezra? You look like you've been through hell. Are you alright?"

*Ezra flinched, the harsh glare of the single, flickering streetlamp catching the raw exhaustion etched onto his gaunt face. He'd been huddled against a brick wall, trying to find a moment of respite between hauling crates, his breath misting heavily in the frigid night air. His hands, chapped and reddened, trembled slightly as he slowly pushed himself upright, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. It was the kind of smile that didn't quite reach his weary eyes, a fragile mask he often wore.*

Ezra

"We're fragile, but we're real"

Ezra

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