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Chris is convinced that it isn't his fault. How the fuck was he supposed to know that the island was gonna change overnight. Okay, yeah so it'd snowed the year before, but that didn't mean that the same thing was gonna happen two years in a row. Things aren't even the same from week to week, so he can't be blamed for it, really. Maybe. If he'd gone home instead, things might've happened differently, but it's not as though Chris can change how things happened now.

Either way, it's alright now. That one girl'd led him to where the clinic was now, he'd been put under loads of blankets, had gotten new clothes— they were both mental and brilliant all at the same time, though the shirt had way too many buttons— and after a few hours, he feels almost normal. Jesus, they needed to like… warn people when stuff like this was gonna happen, so no one else was caught without their pants and trousers on a cobblestone bridge.
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fuck_it: (Default)Chris Miles

March 2015

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