Cleveland isn’t his city.
She really can’t blame him, a California boy born and raised on a deathtrap that was redeemed by its sugary sweetness. With its sun and its beaches and the crime that was only committed for noncriminal reasons.
He told her about the rocket launcher, and she still laughs when she thinks about how bumbling he was back then
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Comments 17
The one that had gone through four shades of blonde in the time that Faith had known her, over less than a week.
What a great, subtle, heartbreaking detail! Faith, jealously counting number of Anya's hair colors, and never admitting, even to herself, that her acute interest is called "jealosy"...
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The reason he gets upset, of course, is because it reminds him of her, and that's not why he's doing this thing with Faith.
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Then again, in this fandom, they rarely are.
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To repeat myself, well done.
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Thank you for the shiny birthday fic!
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