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Summary
“I want to have sex,” Ayato said, “I’m stressed; you’ve been out on business; you’ll be leaving soon as well, so you can’t tell a soul,” he said as if there wasn’t a soul who could walk in and hear the two. Childe quickly stopped his recorder, breaking eye contact. His face turned red as he choked on his spit.
But Ayato didn’t stop looking at him once.
