[ He isn't listening anymore — not to what Sully says. The urges are louder, too loud, they drown every other thought and assault him with the belief that the way to shut them up is right there, inches away from him, ready to be consumed. Zephir grabs the side of Sully's neck, matching his strength, trying to rip flesh back open with his nails. ]
no subject
Your flesh. It won't open for me.