Faramir was bowed over his desk, a book on the
history of weapons in this world lay open in front of him, an English dictionary beside it. He picked it up as the visuals seemed like a good aid, but the words proved challenging nonetheless and he wondered if perhaps he should first have studied a history of this world
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"Hullo, Rudolf," Faramir greeted with a smile, leaning back in his chair. "Are you enjoying the quiet weekend?"
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He waved Dolf inside, motioning around for him to pick wherever he would be most comfortable to sit. "What sort of strange things?"
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Because obviously when you thought about hormones, the first thing you thought about was the possibility of a plague outbreak.
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"I had not thought of that," he admitted. Most of his concern had involved Maladicta somehow. "Admittedly, I found it hard to think at the time. It was perhaps a test of character."
One he had miserably failed at.
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Anyway.
"Maybe," Dolf said, dubiously. "But what would be the point?"
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If one did not consider getting dragged up eight flights of stairs by a possessive vampire out of hand.
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"I kissed someone I should not have. Would not have if I had not let my guard down. I hope that the damage I have done is not too great. I will have to speak to her soon, but it seemed best to let the embarrassment die down before attempting it."
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