And here I thought I was just hallucinating at work today.

[Sitting on Ivan's kitchen counter top, doused in wine stains and laying beside a lighter (to be put to use later) is a note addressed to him, with a return address in the most unrecognizable cursive handwriting imaginable.]


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Does anyone have a spare key to a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs? Hak Soo has cuffed me to my own staircase and there is no more blood rushing to my fingers.

And I think he's gone to find a saw or a blowtorch.