The idea of doing it again leaves a sickening knot in his stomach, but he promised himself he would. He nods his head, an emphatic yes, and touches the arm behind his shoulder. It takes a moment to collect his words again.
"I like that you're death." It's a funny thing to say, and maybe he's said it before. He means it with all of his heart. Now, more than ever.
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"I like that you're death." It's a funny thing to say, and maybe he's said it before. He means it with all of his heart. Now, more than ever.