Alastair was working from home. For all of the work he had missed, deliberately or accidentally, it was a wonder he still had his job, much less the privilege of working from home whenever he felt like it. But Stark had said long ago that as long as he completed his work, whatever or wherever he did it didn't matter.
And so, he stayed shut up in his room, not even bothering to feign illness like he had on the phone to let the secretary know he would be programming from home today. He only did enough work to look productive anyway - the rest of the time he spent staring out the window or curled up in the corner of his bed, thinking. Or not thinking. Or fretting, or trying to hold back the tide of emotions. His life was ruined, at any minute he expected either the cops or the loony bin to come knocking and take him away, he was sure Bakura hated him now...
...at least he still had Kyosuke. Kyosuke still loved him. It was the only thing keeping him from shattering into a million pieces.
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And so, he stayed shut up in his room, not even bothering to feign illness like he had on the phone to let the secretary know he would be programming from home today. He only did enough work to look productive anyway - the rest of the time he spent staring out the window or curled up in the corner of his bed, thinking. Or not thinking. Or fretting, or trying to hold back the tide of emotions. His life was ruined, at any minute he expected either the cops or the loony bin to come knocking and take him away, he was sure Bakura hated him now...
...at least he still had Kyosuke. Kyosuke still loved him. It was the only thing keeping him from shattering into a million pieces.