Malcolm swallowed thickly, his voice struggling out of his throat like gravel. “Anything?” he growled. Seong-Jae tilted his head in the other direction, then released Malcolm’s tie and straightened. “I felt nothing.” Malcolm let his hands fall. “Yeah,” he said numbly—yet he could hardly hear his own voice for the pounding of his own heart. “Me too.” Still Seong-Jae lingered—standing so close that if Malcolm breathed too deep their chests would touch, and then it would be heartbeat to heartbeat, straining against the cages of bone and blood and sinew to reach each other.
