Neal comes in and holds out the tea, refreshed as it is with a bit more hot water. "He did. It was fucking manipulative, and if he speaks to me again before apologizing to you, I can't be entirely sure I won't spit on him."
He knows better than to suggest he can land a punch on anyone but Eiffel.
“He means well,” Malcolm says, but it sounds a little bitter. “He told me the other day that he thinks me being with Will is basically sexual misconduct. So it wouldn’t take much to convince him that the best thing for Will is us being apart,” Malcolm says sullenly, sniffling over his tea.
"Fuck him." There's a viper viciousness in Neal's words that Malcolm probably hasn't heard since it was aimed at Malcolm. "Fuck him, fuck Sheehan, and--"
Nope, he can't say fuck Shaw, apparently, no matter how angry he currently is.
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He knows better than to suggest he can land a punch on anyone but Eiffel.
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Nope, he can't say fuck Shaw, apparently, no matter how angry he currently is.
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