[His eyes remain locked on Tetsuo as he turns it over in his hand, looking at the handwriting, studying the design...if that wasn't proof that Tetsuo's presence in this house had weight, he didn't know what was. Arms fold, hips leaning against the counter.
A part of him expected that mug to go up against the wall. After all, he knew Tetsuo's feelings for Ken, and the negative connotation they came with.]
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A part of him expected that mug to go up against the wall. After all, he knew Tetsuo's feelings for Ken, and the negative connotation they came with.]
...
[And when those eyes meet his, he gives a shrug.]
He made it himself.