STEPHEN'S POV“We need to talk, Cyrus,” I forced out, trying to keep my voice even. I had finally decided to talk to Cyrus about the whole Baekalis thing; I was tired of being a mere background character in my own life. It was tiring, to be everyone's second choice all the time, and I wasn't sure how much more I had to endure being Cyrus’ shadow. Cyrus moved from where he was situated behind the table, coming to stop in front of the desk as he rested on the table, not really sitting on it, but not standing either. I shamelessly traced his every movement, more than aware of how this conversation would end if I wasn't careful. “You want to talk? Okay,” Cyrus scoffed. His tone was nonchalant as he rolled his neck around. It was an action that I knew all too well. It had been directed at me enough times to know what it meant: Watch your words, because I won't hesitate to get my hands bloody today. It terrified me, as it always did anytime Cyrus and I fought, but maybe I had to grow so
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