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For the first time he finds this state of affairs, the resultant lack of expectations, completely to his liking. It’s been three days since the matter was put to rest, and something in him still wants to…well. Stir up trouble. Kick up a ruckus. Pick a fight.

There are things, neatly tucked away somewhere.Disclosure will only warrant more trouble, and no one wants that. *smirk*


Dinner might be appropriate. Lunch, at least—reservations somewhere exclusive, food expensive enough to pass for the apology he has no intention of giving.

“I lost,” he whispers to himself, though she undoubtedly knows. He smiles (not that he’s aware of it)

“I thought I’d deliver the good news in person.”


About Humbug

My past has a way of making my present feel jealous of the future.