"So, while Wells told you that he wants you out of the way, so he can sex me up, was he by any chance twirling a moustache?" What was he supposed to say to all this? "Look, I... I've no idea what happened, James, I can't know. I want to believe you, although if it was true and you went there just to stake your fucking claim again, like I'm your possession or some shit like that, that's not actually any better."
"What? No! What is wrong with you? That wasn't it at all. I was worried. That guy is off, I could see it from the get go. It's in his fucking eyes. There's nothing there. It's so fucking hollow. Every smile is fake, every word he says is so careful. He played me and he's playing you too." And he didn't believe him. He just saw James as some angry asshole who wanted to take a claim? That hurt. Was that what he was? He didn't want to be that person... God. Was that how people saw him? "I wanted to protect you, not claim you." He swallowed hard and looked at Hartley once more. It was so clear he didn't even believe him, he was just humouring the idea of his innocence.
"Fuck you." He was hurting, he was scared, he just wanted to lash out. And there was Hartley. "Fuck you and fuck Wells. You two queer assholes are welcome to each other." And with that, James slammed his phone back on the receiver and moved away before Hartley could see him tear up.
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"Fuck you." He was hurting, he was scared, he just wanted to lash out. And there was Hartley. "Fuck you and fuck Wells. You two queer assholes are welcome to each other." And with that, James slammed his phone back on the receiver and moved away before Hartley could see him tear up.