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'“I hate to impose upon your social calendar,” he continued sweetly, “but given our unique arrangement… I find myself feeling just a trifle possessive.” Another step. Closer now-too close-and still smiling.
“After all,” he whispered conspiratorially, leaning down just enough for you to see your own wide-eyed reflection in his glowing pupils, “a soul is such an intimate thing to share, don’t you think?”'
Or Alastor gets jealous of your friendship with Angel Dust.