3rd Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning
Sunday, December 20th, 2015 05:56 pmThe words had been following Dante around. Sometimes he swore he could catch sight of his own face but with different angles, in the corner of his eyes, in the mirror. It was weird. Too weird even for booze.
So eventually he'd gotten out of bed and stumbled into the common room to get some food. Maybe a change of scenery would stop it from following him around. Except there it was again, conveniently spelled out in fridge magnets in front of him.
"What is your problem," he muttered.
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