[The door opens, and...well, it seems like Apollo had caught Klavier at just the right (wrong?) time. He'd obviously been getting more comfortable outside of his suit, preferring jogging pants and a band (his) t-shirt. His hair was undone, crimped from being curled up in its iconic drill style all day, and spread out like angel hair pasta down the opposite side of his neck. His face, normally coated forehead to chin in makeup, was now wiped clean, freckles speckling his face from under his eyes all the way to his ears.
And worst of all, the smile he wears when he opens it, as if he were just caught taking a cookie from the jar and already eating it.]
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And worst of all, the smile he wears when he opens it, as if he were just caught taking a cookie from the jar and already eating it.]
I know.
It got you over here, ja?