“What do you mean you don’t need all of this?” Rafe asked his brother with incredulity in his eyes. He tried to be understanding to the fact that Elijah was, for the lack of a better term, small Bourgeoise. “These are my summer clothes and I hand-picked every single item in these eight chests Elijah!” He spoke as if it was some herculean effort that deserved praise and recognition. “Would you ask Picasso to just get rid of the Sistine Chapel?” Wrong artist, but the analogy still stood. The chests didn’t fit the room and their contents were never going to fit the drawers the school gave him. It was a travesty!
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