Nansich tried.
God, he really tried to get out of those arms.
He pushed. He squirmed. He twisted left and right, trying to pry the man's arm off him like it was some oversized snake. But the guy's grip didn't budge. It was like trying to wrestle out of a tree trunk. His muscles were thick and heavy and warm, and they'd somehow locked him into place with terrifying efficiency.
"Let… me… go…" he grunted, straining his neck and shoulders, but nothing worked.
Minutes passed. Maybe even an hour. He lost track of time, exhausted and growing increasingly frustrated. He tried prying fingers off, but even unconscious, the man held on like his life depended on it.
Eventually, his body gave in.
With a heavy sigh, Nansich slumped against him, panting from the effort. The hay itched his arms, the man's skin was way too warm, and the barn smelled like old wood and animals. But his eyelids… they just wouldn't stay open.
"…Whatever," he mumbled to himself.
And then, he drifted off.
