[He's certain he must be dying -- that this is all a sick fever dream that he can't escape and any minute Aeryn will dematerialize right between his fingertips.
Crichton's desperation doesnt abate, leaving his mouth perfectly pliable against hers as he weakly tries to get a better angle between both his exhaustion and delerium.
He should stop her, no matter how right it feels. Eventually, John forces their lips apart so he can breath, heavy and uncertain.]
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Crichton's desperation doesnt abate, leaving his mouth perfectly pliable against hers as he weakly tries to get a better angle between both his exhaustion and delerium.
He should stop her, no matter how right it feels. Eventually, John forces their lips apart so he can breath, heavy and uncertain.]