Dean smiles, too, for the fingers, a barely there twitch of lips, but then his eyes open and he remembers. Where he is. What he's been doing.
"Should've," he agrees, but he means something different, and the thing inside him knows it, punching forward against Mike's solar plexus with a gargled laugh.
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"Should've," he agrees, but he means something different, and the thing inside him knows it, punching forward against Mike's solar plexus with a gargled laugh.