PhoebeInTransit
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the gifts you gave to the dark


Notes

for the fic by rockinaintnowalkinthepark

"It’s a cliché as old as time, but sitting here under the fluorescent bulbs in a room that smells of antiseptic and nothing like the home they built together, there are so many things Louis wishes he could say that a swollen throat and a desire to be the strong one, a rock for his ailing husband in his most dire time of need, never allowed.

But then, there is a way…"


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