A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. Whenever they stepped from the chairs, he stepped down. He was unable to possess Lucy's hand as he had in the cinema, separated by the annoying chasm between the van's plush seats. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it.
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