David was out with Millie again. The prick.
Griffin had said nothing when he saw David getting dressed up in as fancy an outfit as he could muster,
instead choosing to to just watch and take in all the details one wouldn't notice at a first glance; the way his coat was slightly bunched up in the back,
or the tiniest of scuffs on the inside of his left shoe.
Of course, Griffin did find himself wondering why he was paying so much attention to the most minor of details,
but he couldn't think of a reason why that didn't make him sound obsessed or like a stalker.
“Right,” David had said, looking down to examine his clothing. “I'm off. I might not be back tonight, so don't wait up.
” Griffin had simply nodded and watched as David took one last self-conscious look at himself and jumped away.
Whenever David was in the lair, it seemed like he was doing everything he could to piss Griffin off, and yet whenever he left – for whatever bullshit reason – the place seemed so empty.
Griffin hated the feeling of it; he'd lived on his own since he was sixteen, after all, so why should the solitude bother him now?
David's incessant buzzing around him like an irritating mosquito was a serious annoyance, and Griffin had cursed himself many times for getting involved in the Yank's life in the first place.
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