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Summary
"I hate you! I hate you!" Kaveh grabbed him by his lounge shirt; the fabric was so thin it nearly tore under the white-knuckled grip of Kaveh's fingers.
"I’ve heard that before," Alhaitham said, setting his wine cup on the table, nearly spilling it. "So, will you back up your words with action for once, or are you going to run back to your room and slam the door again?"
