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No mask.

CLYDE'S POV

With a sigh — God, I've been sighing a lot lately — I stopped in front of Baekalis’ room. From what I knew, and from firsthand experience from the one time I went looking for him, Cyrus hadn't slept in his room for a while, and instead kept Miss Baekalis company in her room instead.

They usually spent their nights together, and apparently, Cyrus even spent his rut with her. It made me wonder if he was going to get remarried or if this was a fling. Huh…

One problem at a time I suppose.

I took in one last deep breath just for good measure, exhaling exasperatedly as I gripped the door knob and twisted, pushing the door open so I could enter.

It was better late than sorry, I guess.

I opened the door to the sight of Cyrus with his shirt half raised, and his mask zipped down, one of his hands holding said mask in a tight grip and pressing into a swollen area on his face, while the other was resting on the side of his torso where another bruise was quickly forming.

Ah, so
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