[anyone wandering through the farther corners of the east wing today might very well come across a spilled bottle of pills in one of the hallways, though at least one-fourth of it's original contents seem to be missing. lost in the cracks under the doors, perhaps? who could say
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A-Allen?...
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[he's not. he knows he's not. but it's not like he cares if she thinks that about him.]
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[She would reach out to give him a pat, but she's learned not to touch. So, instead she gives him a bright friendly smile and turns to leave, giving him a small wave.]
I'll close this door too, cho.
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