😥 for your muse to receive a troubling text while speaking to mine. (Julia!)
“And if that wasn’t enough,” Galen went on, “I got pick-pocketed on the celebratory pub crawl and lost my cadet ID, so I either had to find the thief or come clean to the sergeant about it all.” Galen rolled his eyes at the foolishness of his youth. “They didn’t kick me out, but I was stuck on kitchen detail for six months, and I haven’t eaten a potato since.”
Galen was about one and a half drinks past the point of tipsy he wanted to be at this hour, so the glass in his hand was water, and the woman he was speaking to was pretty and distracting enough to keep his mind off of what was to unfold. But when his smart watch buzzed, he had to eye the curtailed message T missed RV point.
“Shit,” he said under his breath. “I mean, fuck. Dammit. I’m trying to work on my language,” he said with a smile, glazing over the clearly troubled look on his face. “I just lost a bet.”
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