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Summary
Being alone in a big, empty mansion wasn’t great, but Stingy was used to it. Being alone and sick was worse, but still, nothing he couldn’t handle.
Until the wings started growing in, at least.
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Bookmark Notes:
*The quiet night called to him; it was as if the stars wanted to be seen, and the air wanted to be enjoyed in deep breaths that left fog clouding the space in front of him. The whole world wanted to be his, just for these few quiet hours, and how could he ever say no to that?*
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