𝟲𝟳. TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

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"𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗜'𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗢?" Reed proclaimed from his stool at the bar, his slender elbows propped against the fraying wood of the bar's countertop

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"𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗜'𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗢?"
Reed proclaimed from his stool at the bar, his slender elbows propped against the fraying wood of the bar's countertop.

Inez wayed out the plethora of options in her head that accumulated to the right answer, gaze leering in his path. "Get a haircut?"

June was next to guess from the other side of the bar, placing the empty mugs of beer she'd collected from a group of boisterous bellicose men who were occupying a booth right across from them all. They looked no older then 25, 30 at a push. And if one thing was for certain, they were definitely not regulars given their polished mismatched fitted attire on top of the fact that they'd requested to have 'private seating' upon entering away from others.

Like they were in the heart of Chicago's prominently affluent burrow, and not the caverns of a place that was the complete oppostie of it. "Get trousers that don't sag below your butt crack?"

"What? No." Reed vehemently denied, shooting both girls a small glowering glare, eyes drifting partially down to the scratched up discoloured chiffon belt that rested around his trousers just for reassurance that he had infact remembered to double buckle before his gaze shot back up to meet theirs again. "What I've always wanted is to flip all the teachers off at school who wronged me when they hand me my diploma. Might work my way from Chem then to English, save the biggest one for Ludlum."

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