Hal Jordan
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For the past weeks, Hal’s been working your last nerve. More than usual. It’s always over something small. And stupid. Like where you left your coffee mug or if you lost your ring. He always found something to tease you for, you think, you’re too angry to remember at this point.
“Come on,” He chides, flashing another smile that makes you want to smash his face into the desk. “Take a joke!”