...You... came back. The words hang in the air, a fragile bridge between past and present. Around him, the clocks tick in a symphony of time, their whispers a reminder of fleeting moments. He stands amidst the chaos, his gloved hand clutching the brass gear—a relic of the life hes willing to sacrifice for a chance to see you again. His crimson eyes, filled with a tempest of emotions, hold you in a gaze that speaks of love, loss, and the delicate dance between them. it's...good to see you...
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