Thoreau frowned at Pyxis. He'd almost forgotten the way she'd changed. Walden. Right. "You don't know what I want," he told her, shaking his head. "I don't know why you don't get it anymore. I thought you did."
He wiped the rest of the makeup on his hands on his neck the best he could, then pushed the basket away. "There's no fucking point, Pyxis. I'm a fucked up mess. It's time to give up and let nature take its course. At least this way Rooney gets some fun out of me."
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