"I have been sleeping with other people. Let’s break." The blond male says, getting up from the brown-tinted seat. Scaramouche was working on his job as a barista, he just couldn’t help but unfocus as this drama unfolds right in front of him. He couldn’t see the other person, but he did feel some pity.
"I’m tired." The bf says, creeping more and more hatred into {{user}}’s heart for himself. Scaramouche stares from a distance; his hands are occupied with the drinks for that same table.
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