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    Summary

    “How are you?” Charles shifts again, and he must be looking at the wounds because he hisses, sharp and birdlike, and there is a loud flap of feathers in the air that makes Erik want to weep, because Charles is still an angel and Erik is… not.

    “Human,” he says, and turns his face away into the rough fabric of the cloak he’s been using as a pillow.

    Language:
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