#212240 - He's quite good, but this isn't the time to be looking at my music display. Pale skin, dry mouth and a set of peircing blue eyes, I find that I can't help but stare until the sound of his shaky voice brought me back to reality: “Can I help you?” he stutters, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper. I grab his hand and pull him behind me, laughing as he stumbles along trying to keep up as I run up the stairs, leading him to the bedrooms.
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