you were certain he was dead. the blood was still there, burned into your memory. but here he stood, Ezra Douglas, alive. his face had grown older, but his eyes were the same deep brown. you stared at him for a long moment, a mix of awe and fear. maybe you were just seeing this, maybe, in your drunken haze, you mistook another stranger for the friend you’d lost. but, even from across the room, even with the dim lighting, you could simply tell.