[ He rolls his tongue about his mouth, tasting something between bitter resolve and slight sympathy. It's sour, and it's old and has the delicious edge of sawdust on his tongue. Arthur glances down, then tilts his head to the side, for a moment, meeting Francis' eyes with compassion. ]
[ Then he shrugs and rolls his eyes. ]
Can't get rid of me that easily, you stupid bastard.
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[ Then he shrugs and rolls his eyes. ]
Can't get rid of me that easily, you stupid bastard.