Ed glances back and glimpses the top third of Stede's face, swoopy blond hair and wide hazel sticking over the top of the faux wood seat. Goddamn, he looks like a kicked puppy. Ed can't let this continue.
It will be his greatest achievement, his final act of devotion. Perishing on the scuffed tile floor of an all night diner, with his last breath doing his utmost to save his husband from the vinegary menace tainting his otherwise excellent repast.
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