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It is very late at night, and Morpheus was supposed to be done several hours ago. Trauma, however, does not care if you’ve been on your feet seeing patients all day. A car accident as he’s about to leave forces him into a last minute surgery to try and relieve some of the pressure in the driver’s brain.
The surgery takes nearly three hours, and by the time he's finished, all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. He settles for laying down on one of the benches in the changing room, with an arm draped over his eyes.
“Thought you’d have left by now.”
Morpheus opens his eyes to see Robert Gadling leaning against the wall. He’s got his arms crossed casually over his chest, and his hair is tied in a messy bun. A small smirk is planted on his face and Morpheus can swear that his eyes are shining (even in the god-awful hospital lighting).
“Car accident, had to perform a craniectomy, but the patient’s blood pressure kept rising so it was touch and go for a moment. Could have used an extra set of hands,” he says, smiling at Robert. Ever since the biopsy on Brianna Gibson, Morpheus continued to request his presence on his cases. Robert proved to be an asset when dealing with difficult or anxious patients. He had a way of speaking to people that made them feel secure, and that they were being heard.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Dr Salah had me in for a coronary artery bypass graft. Was in there for nearly eight hours,” Robert groans, rubbing the back of his neck. Several thin tendrils of hair fall from the messy bun as he lowers his head. It takes an iron strength for Morpheus to not tuck them neatly behind his ear.
He clears his throat. “Were you involved with the case?”
Robert stretches one of his legs out, pointing his toes up toward the ceiling. “Yup. Really sweet man. In his late forties too. Way too young to be having these issues with his heart.”
“Any ideas why?”
Robert shrugs, “they don’t tell us nurses much, even though we’re the ones who get to know the patients.” He grabs his foot from behind and pulls up against his lower back. His eyes screw shut as he stretches his thigh muscle. Morpheus does his very best to not notice the way his scrubs are lifting very slightly.
“I—Uh—That may have something to do with HIPAA,” Morpheus says.
“Oh I understand that,” Robert stretches his other leg, before bending over to touch his toes. Morpheus stares at the pulled, taught muscles on his back. His back, which undoubtedly could use someone to work the knots and tension out.
Robert says something else, but Morpheus manages to miss what it was. So he simply hums in agreement.
“God, my body is ruined. Gonna head straight home and draw myself a nice hot bath. Soak in there for a month, I think.” Robert clasps his hands together and lifts them high above his head stretching his shoulders and back. The scrubs, which were previously lifting slightly, end up exposing a small section of his stomach.
A stomach that is tantalizingly covered in dark, thick hair. A stomach that all too quickly is covered once more as Robert lowers his arms and rolls his shoulders.
It is too late, the damage is done. Images of a perfectly furried stomach, and a thick, dark trail leading under his scrub pants is all that enters his mind. A furried stomach that begs for fingers to trail over, twirling the small strands of hair between them.
Does his hair cover the entire stomach? Is it artfully trimmed or left to its own devices? Morpheus finds he does not care either way. He has been with men both clean shaven and thoroughly hairy.
He has always preferred those with a healthy sprinkling of hair. He can just see his hands crawling further up Robert’s scrubs, revealing even more hair—
“Morpheus? You alright?”
He snaps out of his lurid thoughts to Robert staring at him, frowning in concern. He quickly lifts himself up from the bench, his cheeks warming in a bright red blush. Morpheus has always been very clear on personal and professional boundaries, and the images of Robert Gadling in his mind right now are trampling all over them.
Robert is not only a coworker, but technically a subordinate. No, Morpheus does not control whether or not Robert gets fired, but there are surgeons in the hospital who would take advantage of the nurses on staff. Burgess has had nurses relegated to different departments for the slightest offenses.
“I am sorry. My mind had wandered off. It would appear that I am also exhausted.”
“Will you be alright heading home?” Robert asks, and Morpheus can feel his heart melting at the level of sincerity in his voice. Like he wants so badly for Morpheus to allow him to take care of him, if only for one day.
He quirks a small smile at him before slowly rising to his feet. “Thank you, Nurse Gadling—”
“You can call me Robert, if you like.”
Morpheus’ smile grows a hair’s breadth larger. “ Robert . Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine. In fact, I should get going before I fall asleep right here.”
“At the very least get yourself into an on-call room if you can’t make it home,” Robert says, with a small smirk of his own. The very implication of his suggestion borders on flirting territory, and Morpheus isn’t sure he’s awake enough to process that too seriously. He has never used the on-call rooms for anything more than to grab a quick nap (while he was an overly worked resident). Both Matthew and Jessamy have more than filled him in on other ways both the doctors and the nurses have used the extra beds.
To say he was not interested would be generous.
“And miss out on my own well-deserved bath? No, I think I’ll take your advice, Nurse Gadling, and have a nice, long soak.” He says Nurse Gadling with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.
Morpheus brushes past Robert, taking in the interesting mix of sandalwood, lemons, and an almost sweet musk.
“With a good book, I hope?” Robert says, just as Morpheus leaves the room. They’d had a few conversations during surgery where– on more than one occasion– they had argued over the merits of specific literary geniuses.
A sly smile spreads on his face. “Of course. In fact, my sister just bought me a lovely biography on William Shakespeare.”
Morpheus hastens away from the changing room to spare himself of yet another of Robert’s rants on how overrated the bard was, the ghost of a soft chuckle on his lips.
Morpheus is coming to the realization that he might be doing too much for his friends. He finished his last surgery of the day not too long ago, and normally would be on his way home. However, Matthew had texted him asking for an emergency “hang out” at his place. He wouldn’t say what it was about, but Morpheus had a feeling it was related to his latest girlfriend. As much as he loved Matthew, the man wasn’t always the best at finding love.
Then again, Morpheus was the metaphorical pot calling the kettle black. His string of relationships were not any better. From the ill-advised relationship with the head of the trauma department, to his short lived affair with a hospital administrator (whose mother happened to be the chief of surgery), Morpheus could understand why Matthew would seek him out specifically.
It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
Matthew had asked him to meet him at the nurses’ station. The nurses had their own specific lockers and changing rooms. Matthew would meet him there once his shift was done, which according to the time, would be any minute now.
As Morpheus enters the locker room, he is immediately greeted by a pair of thick, hairy thighs. Thighs stretched tight as the person is bent over, reaching for something underneath one of the benches. He is struck completely silent, unable to even think clearly as he stares at them.
He clears his throat before the person catches him gawking awkwardly. They quickly lift themselves up, and the warm, happy face of Robert Gadling greets him. At this point, Morpheus shouldn’t be surprised. Ever since their moment in the OR changing room, he’s been thinking about the soft tuft of hair on Robert’s stomach. Imagining running his hands over the softness of his stomach, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him onto his lap.
“Dr Infinito. I would ask what brings you here, but Matty’s been a wreck all day, so I’m guessing it’s related to that.”
Morpheus turns his attention to a very interesting stain on one of the lockers. Anything to distract him from how good Robert’s legs look. They are thick and strong, and covered in dark, coarse hair. His eyes drift back in time to watch as Robert grabs a pair of denim jeans from his locker and pulls them on.
“Yes. I believe he is having relationship problems,” he says, appreciating how good the jeans look on Robert. They hug his thighs and sit low on his hips, easy enough for someone to latch onto the loops and give a nice, strong tug—
He needs to stop this. Thinking about one of the nurses that works with him in this way is inappropriate. He could not pursue anything with Robert, even if he wanted to. The risks involved would be too great, for the both of them. After the disaster that was his relationship with Calliope Pappas, her mother has had it out for him. The last thing he wants is to drag Robert down with him.
At the same, who’s to say Robert is even interested in men? He can hear Jessamy in his head, reminding him that everyone is bisexual until proven otherwise. Which is fine for her to think so, being as funny and confident as she is.
Morpheus, on the other hand, well his personality is lackluster compared to Jessamy, and he’d prefer to believe that every gorgeous, kind man is tragically heterosexual. It helps soften the blow of eventual rejection to believe he’d never have a shot either way.
“Poor Matty. He told me about Beth. Apparently she broke it off with a text . I mean, I understand it’s so awkward to end things, but that’s just cold,” Robert says.
Beth , that’s who Matthew’s latest girlfriend was. She is a respiratory technician who usually works alongside Jessamy and the other cardiothoracic surgeons. Now that he remembers her name, he can picture her now. Short, thin, with an auburn pixie cut. Matthew had been dating her for about a month. Around the same time that Morpheus first met Robert.
Has it already been a month since their first meeting?
“I think you know as well as I that it is very difficult to see the look of sadness in Matthew’s eyes.” Morpheus takes a seat on the bench, near Robert’s locker. Robert follows suit and sits down next to him.
“That’s true. You really don’t wanna disappoint the guy. It’s why I didn’t give you a difficult time after splashing me,” Robert jokes as he nudges Morpheus’ shoulder.
“If I recall correctly, you called me a fucking asshole as well as a big-headed neurosurgeon . In what world is that not giving me a difficult time?” he says, giving Robert a small smile.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Robert says, getting up from the bench. Morpheus can still feel the heat from where he’d playfully nudged him, and finds himself wishing he’d come back and continue their playful banter.
“To be fair you were the one who brought it up,” says Morpheus. He pulls out his cell phone in order to check to see if Matthew has texted him.
Matthew
Just finished. Be there soon. Thanks Morph.
“How’s Matty?” Robert asks. Morpheus looks back to him and is nearly struck down once more. He should have expected that Robert’s chest would not only be exposed, but would also be covered in thick, dark hair. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it also appears to be slightly groomed, indicating that he is aware and proud of his chest hair. It’s darker and much thicker on his chest, covering his pectoral muscles, except for a rather large, prominent scar down the middle. The kind of scar one would receive after open heart surgery. It is rather a shock to see and Morpheus wants to ask about it, but chooses not to. Robert doesn’t offer up any information either, and throws on a crisp white t-shirt, followed by a dark blue plaid shirt, which he leaves unbuttoned.
He truly is a very handsome man.
“He should be here soon. Though I am worried about his mental state. The lack of emojis indicates that he is still distraught over this breakup.”
“That man does love his emojis,” Robert says, while applying some deodorant. Morpheus watches, transfixed as he takes some styling product and runs it sparsely through his hair. It must be a light formula because his hair still looks soft enough to run fingers through.
Morpheus’ fingers, specifically.
The door to the changing room opens suddenly, startling Morpheus from thoughts of silky smooth hair. Matthew wanders inside, looking worse for wear. Still in his work scrubs, and resembling a puppy that had been kicked to the curb.
“Speak of the devil, there he is,” says Robert, pulling on a denim jacket and grabbing his backpack. Matthew drags himself to his locker and begins the long process to change into his everyday clothes. Robert gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.
“Sorry I can’t join you two. A few of the trauma nurses want to take me out to the White Horse . I think they’re trying to recruit me to join them,” he says, giving Matthew’s shoulder a squeeze.
The thought of Robert leaving their department is suddenly very concerning to Morpheus. To no longer see him in the OR with him, talking about Shakespeare and Marlowe. Not to mention the patient cases that he’s been working on. Finding a nurse like Robert is exceptionally rare.
Robert must notice the look of worry on his face, because he chuckles and shakes his head. He walks up to Morpheus and gives him a playful shove.
“You’d miss me that much, eh? Don’t worry, Infinito, I wouldn’t dream of abandoning the surgical floor. However, I’m not one to say no to a few free drinks and a good evening.” Robert has the audacity to wink at him. Winking with that charming, bright smile of his, is enough for Morpheus to turn away bashfully.
“I was simply worried for your patients. They would miss your level of care.”
“And here I was thinking you cared about me.” Robert clutches dramatically at his chest, earning him a huff of laughter from Morpheus. It’s enough to encourage him to continue further. “I’ll break through that tough shell you’ve got going sooner or later. But until then, I’ll have to wish you a fond adieu ,” he says with an over-exaggerating flourish of a wave. Morpheus watches as he exits the room, the smile on his face never straying. He turns back to Matthew, whose face has changed from utterly devastated to completely engaged.
“What?” he asks.
Matthew smirks, but chooses not to say anything, going back to his locker. Morpheus frowns, wondering what that was all about. He’ll have to make sure to ask Matthew about it once they’re back at his apartment. For now, he sits and waits patiently for Matthew to finish changing, thinking of strong thighs, and soft, thick hair.
Jessamy has dragged him out once more, desperately needing to talk about the latest person who has captured her interest. Of all people she could have obsessed over, it had to be an intern. And not just any intern at that, but the grand-daughter of Unity Kincaid, the legend herself. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t amused by Jessamy retelling the tale of seeing the intern at the hospital and how she could not get her out of her mind. Morpheus, and Lucienne had advised her not to pursue the intern any further. They had a one night stand, before ever knowing they’d be working together. Completely innocent circumstances that need not be repeated, especially considering that Jessamy is in a position of power over Rose Walker. It is a recipe for disaster.
Matthew and Frankie disagreed with them. They both listed plenty of couples who had met at the hospital, each one proving to be a success story. Matthew even added that eventually Rose would be her equal, an attending in her own right. Until then, she simply had to avoid going into surgery with her. It was the ethical thing to do, limit professional interactions between the two.
Morpheus, at this point, had zoned out of their discussion. He’d said his piece and was done. What Jessamy decided to do would be her choice and her choice alone. From what Jessamy had said, they both seemed to really like each other, but were held back by the professional implications of their situation.
Morpheus still believed they should call it off before things became even more messy and complicated.
It is a lively crowd tonight at the White Horse Tavern . The tavern is an establishment of Seattle, having been around since the early 1900s. Located within walking distance of the hospital, many staff will find themselves here after a long shift, to be served by Mervyn and his staff of animated bartenders. Many relationships started (and ended) here within these walls.
“You don’t understand Loosh. She’s smart and funny, and one of the hardest workers I have ever known. You know she’s been taking care of her younger brother? Like, who does that? Go through med school, stress over an internship, and take in a younger sibling to care for? I have four siblings, Loosh. Four! And I love them, but I swear I would have never taken any of them in during my internship.”
“Not even Rami?” Morpheus asks, taking a sip of his white wine.
“ Especially not Rami. That boy can barely do his own laundry. No thank you.”
Morpheus laughs to himself. He does enjoy hearing Jessamy’s stories about her siblings. He lets the conversation continue without his input, for the time being, excusing himself to use the restroom. All things considered, this has been an amusing evening. He might have griped about being taken away from a good book and restful sleep, but deep down, he loves spending time with his friends.
He does not expect the bathroom to be completely empty as he walks inside. However, he also does not expect to find the head of the trauma department— and his ex-boyfriend— Doctor Ian Corinth pressing another man against the wall with the full length of his body. Morpheus cannot see who the other man is, but he appears to be enjoying himself a little too much.
Engaging with his ex (and the person stupid enough to have fallen for his charms) is the last thing Morpheus wants to do. He quickly decides to turn around and make his escape, when he hears an all too familiar voice.
“Morpheus?”
He whips his head back around to see that the person crowded between the wall and Ian’s body is none other than Robert Gadling.
Robert’s face is flushed pink; his lips kiss-swollen and bruised. His hair, which must have been previously gathered in a messy bun, is now falling in messy strands over his face. His clothes are rumpled (no doubt a result of Ian wanting to paw greedily at Robert’s body), a patch of his stomach peeking out from his dark gray henley.
Ian shifts over to look at him, a sleazy smirk on his face. The kind of smirk that nearly pushes Morpheus to yank him away from Robert. Morpheus instead stands ramrod straight, clutching his fists tight at his sides. His pulse is rising, sweat beading on his brow. The sensation of tiny goosebumps rising on his arms, sends a shiver down his spine.
Thoughts of Robert and Ian bombard his mind, stealing the very breath from his lungs. He wants to hit a wall, he wants to run, he wants to slam Ian Corinth against a wall and scream in his face.
This feeling is one Morpheus is all too aware of, especially when it comes to Ian.
This is anger .
He should not feel so angry, why is he so angry? Robert and Ian are two consenting adults, they can do whatever they wish to do. If Robert wishes to demean himself with a snake like Ian, that is his choice to make.
As for Ian… Well, Morpheus is well aware of how little Ian cares about people other than himself. He would take as much of Robert as he can. Perhaps even more.
“Hey there, Doctor McDreamy,” Ian says, using the nickname Morpheus had earned during their intern year. It was during his first neuro case and the patient in question had a brain tumour that severely lowered her inhibitions. She kept calling him Doctor McDreamy the entire time he was on her case. Sadly she passed during surgery, but the name stuck around.
Hearing Ian of all people using it now rankles him deep inside. Robert can sense that as well, because he places a hand on Ian’s chest and attempts to push him away. Ian does not move and instead places his hand on Robert’s exposed stomach, running his fingers over the dark curly hair.
“You’re looking a little stressed out. You’re free to join us,” Ian says, pressing his fingers deeper into Robert’s hip. As Ian’s thumb teases the hem of Robert’s jeans, Morpheus begins to see red.
“That’s enough, Ian,” Robert says, pushing him away. He makes his way closer to Morpheus, but Morpheus will not allow him one step into his space. He holds his hands out, and thankfully Robert takes the hint, stopping in his tracks.
“Do not . I believe it is obvious the kind of company you prefer to keep, Nurse Gadling,” he spits out, glaring at Robert’s shocked face. Perhaps it is unfair of him to take his anger out on Robert. After all, it is unlikely that he is aware of Morpheus’ past with Ian. It isn’t his fault that he found Ian to be charming and funny and utterly handsome. It isn’t his fault that Ian managed to fool him into touching his body; into feeling the heat of his mouth, and the softness of his belly.
But he is furious , his blood rushing through his veins, and wanting to start a fight. He knows that fighting with Ian will not make him feel any better. It never did.
Fighting with Robert will have to do.
“Ex cuse me?” Robert sputters out. Ian slinks up behind him, dragging an arm over his shoulders. Robert shrugs his arms off, giving him a dirty look. Laughing it off, he leans back against the wall.
“I think McDreamy’s a little jealous,” he says, only angering him further. To think that he is jealous of a person with such a low caliber as Ian has is insane. No, he is angry because he thought—
He just—
“You are not helping, Ian,” Robert snaps, not even bothering to look back at him, and keeping his eyes firmly on Morpheus.
Brown eyes, normally so warm and full of light, are cool and shut off. Morpheus imagines that they were once blown wide with desire.
Desire for Ian.
For Ian to run his hands over his chest and to cup them over his firm thighs, fingers digging deep into his flesh.
“I have made myself quite clear. I had thought you were a person of integrity, but it appears that is not the case,” Morpheus says, inching closer to the door. He needs to get out of here. He needs to get into his car and drive as fast as he can back to his home and lock himself in his room.
He needs to be in a place where he does not imagine Ian’s hands roaming all over Robert’s body. Where Robert does not lift his head in ecstasy, begging for more.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asks, eyes burning bright with anger.
Good , Morpheus thinks. Let him get angry. Give him a reason to turn heel and stomp away, forever walking out of Robert Gadling’s life.
He should have known it was a terrible idea to keep requesting him for his surgeries. Even more so when he’d begun thinking about Robert’s hands. Robert’s thighs. Robert’s chest.
“He’s calling you a whore, Robbie. Which isn’t that bad of an insult these days, but coming from McDreamy, it’s derogatory as shit,” Ian says, sneering at him. It reawakens something deep inside Morpheus. The part of him that could be so cruel and heartless, especially towards those he once loved. By the time he and Ian decided to end their relationship, they had both grown so toxic with each other. Ian, by wanting to prove to Morpheus that Trauma surgery was just as meaningful as Neuro. Morpheus, by deciding that Ian’s obsession with being the best in the hospital was childish. There was so much resentment between the two that they’d both done awful things to each other.
Things that Morpheus could not take back, and that he could not forgive Ian for.
“No one fucking asked you, Ian,” Robert snaps, whipping his head back towards him. Morpheus takes this chance to storm out of the bathroom. He shoves his way through the crowd of fellow doctors and nurses, ignoring anyone who calls out to him.
He just needs to get home.
So he keeps walking, keeping his head down and hoping that Jessamy or Matthew don’t notice him and call him back. He’ll send them a text message once he gets back to his car. Matthew will probably suspect it has something to do with Robert (he’d asked about their friendship during their emergency hangout), but Morpheus is fine with that.
He throws open the doors to the tavern, finally stepping outside into the cool, Seattle air. He takes in huge gulps of air, allowing his body to calm down for a moment before he finds his car.
The moment the cool air hits his face, he starts to regret the things he’d said inside. He was caught up in the moment of not only seeing Ian with his hands on another man, but to have that man be Robert of all people. Matthew had tried to talk to him about his developing feelings for the surgical nurse, and Morpheus vehemently denied them.
His reaction today proved that Matthew was right.
Morpheus was indeed deep in his feelings for Robert.
“Care to tell me what that was about?”
Morpheus swings back to meet Robert’s angry face. He must have left right on his heels if he’s managed to catch up to him. The more cynical side of him had figured Robert and Ian would just continue groping each other once he left.
Guess he was wrong about that too.
“I would warn you about involving yourself with Ian Corinth, but from the look of things, I might be a little late on that,” he says, carefully avoiding eye contact. He may have made a fool of himself, but he can still walk out from this with some dignity.
“ Involving myself? First of all, Morpheus, who I involve myself with is my business and my business alone,” Robert says, wrapping his arms around himself, the chill of the air getting to him. “Second of all, I’m not stupid enough to be serious with someone like Corinth . All the nurses are aware of his reputation–”
“So it is meaningless then? And is that the kind of person you are, Robert Gadling?” Morpheus snaps, lifting his head imperiously at him. Well enough that he finds out now that Robert Gadling is the type of person who has no interest in being in a serious relationship.
The look of utter betrayal in Robert’s eyes tells an entirely different story. He is angry, yes. The squared up shoulders, red-face, and heaving rapid breath are all symptoms of building rage.
But his eyes. His eyes are sad. There is an almost imperceptible mist to them, as if Robert is furiously holding back tears.
It causes Morpheus’ heart to drop straight into his stomach. Maybe he’d taken things a little too far tonight.
“The kind of person—? What? Someone who enjoys a fun makeout now and again? Someone who is fine with casual sex? What kind of person does that make me?!” He shouts, coming closer into his pace. Morpheus, keeping his cool, backs away slowly.
Robert keeps pace with him, until Morpheus’ back collides with a brick wall. He presses close to him, enough that he can feel the heat of his breath on his cheek.
It sends a shiver up his spine.
“You do not get to imply anything about my sexual relationships,” Robert hisses, pointing an accusing finger in Morpheus’ face. His face has turned bright red, his hair is disheveled, and there is a faint scent of alcohol on his breath.
And there is something horrifically wrong with Morphues, because all he wants to do is grab Robert by that dark gray shirt of his and crush his lips to his.
“Now I know you’re not a harbinger of purity, so once you get your head out of your ass, come talk to me about what is truly upsetting you.” With that, Robert pushes himself away from him and storms back inside.
Morpheus holds his breath for what seems like an eternity, until Robert has disappeared through the doors of the tavern.
And once Robert is gone, the regret begins to seep into his heart, clutching tight and refusing to allow him even a breath.
He—he may have just fucked everything up.
Robert is gone, and it’s because of the things he’s said.
It’s all his fault.
Now Morpheus is prideful. He will rarely apologize unless he deems it to be absolutely necessary. He is Doctor Morpheus Infinito. One of the leading neurosurgeons in the country. He is fearless in the face of impossible odds. He is meticulous, and decisive.
He is Morpheus Infinito . He does not make mistakes, and he does not allow his head to become mixed up with messy emotions.
But the remorse hits him like a fast-speeding train. After spending a couple of months getting to know each other better, and laughing at each other’s jokes, the last thing he wants to do is push Robert away.
The fact of the matter is, Morpheus enjoys working with Robert. And it isn’t just the clear attraction he has for him. For the first time since his first year of residency, Morpheus is having a good time coming into work. He has something to look forward to, looking up at the surgical board and seeing the name R. Gadling as part of his surgical team.
And he might have just thrown everything into the trash with irrational rage and harsh words. Processing everything now will tell him that this is definitely a case where not only did his emotions take over any rational thought, but that an apology and explanation is also warranted.
However, after that heated argument, it is not the right time to explain himself, especially not in a crowded and loud bar. He will take the next couple of days to truly analyze and process his feelings for Robert Gadling. Hopefully then, they will both have cooler heads and will be able to have a proper conversation.
With a deep sigh, and hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, Morpheus finally turns away from the tavern, and heads back to his cold, lonely house.
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