[As soon as Petre's finished, Cole climbs off him and gets his pants back up, moving with such intensity that he's almost shaking. His face is twisted up and ugly with a million emotions, fear and anger and self-loathing and deep, deep regret, and blood is now running down his arm from where it's soaked through the towel but he barely seems to notice. Doesn't notice at all, really.]
This has gotta stop. [Going for the entranceway, for his shoes.] This has gotta stop...
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This has gotta stop. [Going for the entranceway, for his shoes.] This has gotta stop...