[ Someone would wait for him. Quentin looks up at Klaus, squinting before he breaks into a smile. It's a genuine one despite the drugs--warm, bright, dimples and all--and he feels more and more like Klaus and Eliot would get along. Klaus, he's selfless, tougher than he thinks. Scrambling to get things just because some floppy-haired asshole wanted them. Quentin's never been more thankful.
It's not like he has anywhere else to go. It's not like he's not going to feel the walls closing in in a few hours and break down with how helpless he feels. Now, though, he's got Klaus. ]
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It's not like he has anywhere else to go. It's not like he's not going to feel the walls closing in in a few hours and break down with how helpless he feels. Now, though, he's got Klaus. ]
You'd really wait for me?