➢ His callused hands gradually juxtapose against the smooth rubber sheath ensnaring his pen, spewing ropes of ink as if it were the eternal night. He doesn’t want to write this letter—the unadulterated light—but there are some thoughts that are conveyed powerfully in words. Hunter’s eyes slave to shed as they sting with resonance, chest tight with his capillaries hugging whatever of a heart he has left, but he is resilient. Leaving Sebastian shouldn’t be this hard: these are his goodbyes.

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