[ There was still ten years of it, he thinks, but doesn't say. Instead tries to kick himself out of it, the subtle malaise that occasionally sinks its teeth in whenever he thinks of how much time they'd lost. The wrong choice he'd made. The resulting years she'd spent with others who weren't him. Stop fucking moping, Luther. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-08-09 04:32 am (UTC)When are you heading home?