"Legit, man, legit. You're singing my song." Harry snorted in amusement and then yawned, resting his head back on the pillow and looking at Hartley with such fondness and love. He was so handsome, so funny, so witty and no one really got him. Their loss, his gain. He loved him and he hoped when he was long gone, Hartley found someone else. He needed to be loved, he was that sort of guy.

"Hart, can you get me some mints from the vending machine? I hate the taste in my mouth." He always did, like chemicals and sickness. He wanted to not think about it.