[ His shoulders subtly flinch upwards, but eyes hardly stray away from a stare that stretched for quite a few moments. Or what, you'll punch me again? he almost says, inhaling and ready to let the words roll off his tongue— until a little voice at the back of his mind tells him not to.
While he had things to do . . . That can wait. He'll look around first. Now Ethan's the one that adjusts his bag and gets ready to leave Mallory to his own paintrain.
It's funny, how they're both jealous about the same thing and can't even see it. Before he can stop himself a second time, it's too late to hold his tongue as he pushes by him, trekking to the doorway and looking back at Mallory with rising fumes. ]
You don't know how lucky you really are.
[ That hanging session is taking the back seat for now— time to look around. ]
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While he had things to do . . . That can wait. He'll look around first. Now Ethan's the one that adjusts his bag and gets ready to leave Mallory to his own paintrain.
It's funny, how they're both jealous about the same thing and can't even see it. Before he can stop himself a second time, it's too late to hold his tongue as he pushes by him, trekking to the doorway and looking back at Mallory with rising fumes. ]
You don't know how lucky you really are.
[ That hanging session is taking the back seat for now— time to look around. ]