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Summary
Adrian tears his glove off with his teeth, slaps your cheek with his bare hand this time.
“Hey!” he shouts, then shakes you. “Fucking— Wake— Wake up, it’s done. We did it, man, it’s over, you don’t—” He laughs humorlessly, a crazed sound that sounds more like a choking, dying noise than an actual laugh. “Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Oh, my fucking—”
“Adrian,” Leota says softly. She lays her hand on his shoulder, but he doesn’t even feel it.