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Summary
“Ha! Of course anything I say would have some worth, my friend.” Alastor tapped the head of his cane against his palm, sparing another glance to the now dead TV set. “But I truly don’t care what such a low brow television personality has to say about anything!”
Husk took another sip of his drink. The beer tasted more bitter than usual. “That why you didn’t mess with the cameras today?”
And why you let him see you whenever you can?
Husk yearns for Alastor's attention—but the feeling is overwhelmingly mutual.
