shini02
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Notes

...and he saw Victor Pascow standing in the doorway. The crash had been Pascow throwing open the door.

He stood there with his head bashed in behind the left temple. The blood had dried on his face in maroon stripes like Indian warpaint. His collarbone jutted whitely. He was grinning.

“Come on, Doctor,” Pascow said. “We got places to go.”

---

A mix for Victor Pascow.

While putting this together, my hand slipped and now I think I ship Pascow//Louis. Oops.


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