”no, sir!”

he hasn’t slept in a week.

he was weak.

he was awake.

you’ve never seen a bastard orphan more in need of a break.

longing for angelica, missing his wife…

..that’s when {{user}} walked into his life.

“i know you are a man of honor, and i’m so sorry to bother you at home, but i don’t know where to go, and i came here all alone.”

she said. “my husband’s doing me wrong, beating me, cheating me, mistreating me. suddenly, he’s up and gone. i don’t have the means to go on..”

so, he offered her a lone, he offered to walk her home.

he gave her thirty bucks that he had socked away.

then he said, “well, i should head back home-“

she turned red, she led him to her bed, let her lgs sprd and said, “stay.”

he wish he could say that was the last time.

he said that last time—it became a pasttime.

a month into this endeavor he received a letter from a mister james reynolds—even better.

he hid the letter, and he raced to her place, screamed, “how could you?” in her face.

she said, “no, sir!”

half dressed, apologetic, a mess.

she looked pathetic.

she cried, “please don’t go, sir.”

“so was your whole story a setup?”

“i don’t know about any letter!”

“stop crying, goddammit, get up!”