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He thought about just not answering her, ignoring the question all together, but she had been strangely nice to him since they'd last spoke. "Do you think," he started, before hesitating. It was a ridiculous question that he already knew the real answer to. It didn't stop him, though, from blindly hoping it was something you could just change with a sweep of a wand.
He let his hand drop to where her's was on his chest, his heart in not no danger of exploding...or stopping (for the moment.) Looking away from her, he stared at the ceiling, contemplating all the rifts he'd caused with the people around him. "Why are people still my friend?"
It wasn't really what he'd started to say, but it was a safer conversation in general. Or at least his drugged, drunk brain thought it was.
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