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You.

I’m torn.

On the one hand, I know why you’re here, and I know if I were in your place I’d love every minute of it.

But, I’ve never claimed I’m not a hypocrite. Regardless of what I see in you, regardless of why you’re doing this, I hate you. Fucking. Hate you. And if I get a chance? Fuck the consequences, I’ll find a way to track you down and see how much you like being in the chair and counting the seconds away. I’ll see how much you like your nicotine withdrawals. I’m not eye-for-an-eye, though, so you’ve got a lot more.

I. Hm. Scratch the hate. I just want you to spend a few weeks in hell. And I have a friend who’ll love to see you.