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- Sherlock (BBC TV 2010) (15)
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Summary
“Jen, where... Where's the baby?”
He saw Jensen open his mouth, and he saw the convulsive movement of his Adam's apple, up and down, he could read Jensen's lips, he knew perfectly well what Jensen had just told him, he lay there, his eyes wide open, a faint smile on his lips, that hope slipping away from him, it finally left him when Jensen said:
“He's dead, Jay. Our baby, he... He died.” -
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Summary
I always looked only at him.
I looked at him with my eyes wide open, at his week-old stubble, his baseball cap tilted to one side; he waved his arms and patted me on the shoulder, I sat to his left, under his arm, I breathed in his scent, I could hide here, curl up and freeze.
No one would touch me.
His touch was touch.
I looked at him, and there were screams all around.The shaking, people jumping out of their seats, T-shirts riding up, exposing flat and not-so-flat skin, I shouldn't have seen that.
I looked at him.
I saw only him.
And at that moment, he was to me what he was supposed to be.Series
- Part 1 of I shot an angel with my daddy’s riffle
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Summary
My name is Gerard Way, and I am dead.
That was the first thing he thought of when he opened his eyes in the morning.
He opened his eyes in the bed he shared with Frank, in the bedroom he shared with Frank, in the apartment he lived in with Frank. -
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Summary
“Mycroft died”, I said.
I turned around, and he wrapped his arms around me. The softness of his fingers on my neck. The nose of his, somewhere near. My collarbone, and I shuddered. My hands on his back, and he was breathing noisily, and I closed my eyes, I tried, but all of it, no way, and it raged, raged, and I opened my eyes, and all of it. There it was, by the bed, dancing and taunting. I looked, and it was unstoppable. Mycroft, on the bed. His dead body was melting. Tears of his corpse skin. Tears were coming off. They wrapped him in sheets, carried him out.Series
- Part 2 of translations in English
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Summary
“I'm just tired, I guess”, Kageyama said.
His hands were trembling. The tablecloth on the table was running off somewhere; flowers, funny stems. Eyeball-eating colors. Hinata's pensive face; his hands in his pants pockets; smooth, calm; the movements of his fingers; he was making tea.
“Things had been getting worse and worse for the band lately. Oikawa, me. For the most part, probably me”.
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- Part 1 of translations in English
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