Mentions of smoking, a bad relationship, and a kid who definitely doesn't die (spoiler alert, they do).
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He handed the shorter a joint and the lighter, letting out a puff of smoke. He lit his joint, returning the lighter to Rus. Rus pocketed the lighter and looked down at his friend. “What’d he do this time Nic?” “He, well,” he lowers his voice to barely a whisper, “I’m going to be a parent.” “Goddamn, tha’s why ‘e tried ta keep ya in?” “He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, Rus.” “Dear lord Nic, yeh go’ ter tell ‘im sometime.” “I know, Rus, but if he knows, he’s REALLY gonna fight to keep me inside. I don’t want to lose that freedom.” Rus huffs, “I know, bu’ I really don’ think yeh should be ou’ an’ abou’ like this, especially wit’ tha’ kid.” Panic took a large inhale and puffed out a nice, large cloud of smoke. “I don’t care. I need my freedom. If the kid dies from it, so be it. I need this.” He just shook his head, no. Nic wouldn’t need the goddamned cigs if it weren’t for his boyfriend, who he just can’t seem to leave.
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Color key: Panic(oc), Rus[Russian Roulette](oc)
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