don't let go (and i'll never set you free)
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“This,” Ivan says, holding out his palm wherein lies a vaguely deformed insect, “is for you.”
Till glances at the insect, whose legs pathetically stick up in the air, and swallows thickly. But not being raised at all aside, he knows how to play nice at the very least, so he replies, “That’s—really. Good. You can bury it over there or something.”
Or, the one where from the beginning, Till has eyes for Ivan, and it changes a few things.
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