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"When have we ever done anything for three hours without fighting?" the psionic asks lazily, the shimmer of his eyes visible over his glasses as he stretches and sets the bowl down on the rug. "And when were we ever normal fucking people, KK? My mood swings like a defective carnival ride that cuts off legs at the knees. You flip your shit into orbit any time anyone says anything. In case you didn't get the memo, we're sort of fucked up."
Caliginous PWP with heavy focus on dialogue.