A gust of air presses against my left side, throwing my body weight to the right. I gasp and cling to the rungs, my balance shifting. Four’s cold hand clamps around one of my hips, one of his fingers finding a strip of bare skin just under the hem of my T-shirt. He squeezes, steadying me and pushing me gently to the left, restoring my balance.
Now I can’t breathe. I pause, staring at my hands, my mouth dry. I feel the ghost of where his hand was, his fingers long and narrow.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," I say, my voice strained.
[nora] Do you think it’s actually them? Do you think we just dream about them because we miss them?
[josh] No, I think it’s one hundred percent them. They’re sitting on a cloud somewhere… dream weaving.
So I was bored and made a typography poster for Being Human.
Love the show forever and ever.
Graphic design isn’t my forte but I thought I’d give it a shot.