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Summary
I could just walk past you, ignore you. Instead, I stop behind the chair opposite you, observing you, waiting for you to notice me. It takes you a while. I see you make a note. Your handwriting has always been pretty, it still is. You called it the expression of a writer’s soul back in the day - you pretentious little prick. And I was all over you for it.
Series
- Part 1 of Claire's Consensual Stories
