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Summary
“…I always liked your scars,” Augute hums. “They… they’re really rugged.”
“Hum,” Sebate murmurs with faux tepidness, “You have them too.” He deflects.
“Well, I know… I just, they look better on you. You know? A, uhm… a big tough guy, I guess.”
Sebate fails to stop the subtle smile Augute’s words bring him. Although he appreciates the praise, he can’t suppress the shame that the ugly marks bring him.
