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I. . .
(* A hand touched his own forehead, not completely himself there. Ashy's presence always seems to make him enthralled. . .)
I definitely like it. It looks like you. My friend. And I like that.
No. No. I like this you. This is a good you. A great you. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and and it to you . . . What?
Nevermind that. Fuck me?
Hey, I never threw you in a trash can. I think I've been. . . Mostly chill.
Remember that time I let youβ Nevermind not restating the events in public.
You've always been my little pal.
All the more appealing, bud. It'd be nice to be in control for once. . .
I've taste plenty of tongue. Just never. . . swallowed it down.
Right up to the wrist. Haven't done it myself, but it might make you feel at home.
Let's get you some real food, and not tongue. . .
Not unless you ask me really nicely. Kidding. Sorta. I guess.
Wanna get dinner? I'm guessing it's been a while since you ate?




