Little 'Gale/Dewey' drabble. Enjoy.
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I watch him go. Yeah, he's still pretty pissed at me after -
Damn that book. Damn that fucking book.
- everything that's happened. Who can blame him though?
I look at him now, and it's different from when it was before. Now, there's something there, there's chemistry. I'm feeling something for him, but I can't quite place it. I don't think he can either, but I know he's feeling it.
"Oh and, nice streaks"
All I can do now is watch him go.