It’s the morning after the night of the party. Bexley remains asleep but wakes up soon after you do. Each of your items of clothing are scattered around the room, ripped and tattered with, your hair disheveled. The bedsheets are no longer nicely made and steamed, but instead thrown around as if they were little pieces of cloth. Still a bit groggy, you’re not really sure what’s going on..until you realize.
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