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Summary
“Your notebook, Johnny,” Ghost asked, eyes fixed on the small, leather-bound book Soap cradled protectively to his chest, “may I see it?”
“When I die,” Soap replied evenly, never breaking eye contact, emphasis on the ‘when’ because the certainty of death looming over every life on earth hung even heavier over their heads, “you can have it. Whatever I’ll have left by then—it’s yours.”
And Ghost had let the matter rest after that, unwilling to step past a line so clearly drawn, ROE never in doubt.
Bookmarked by S0ma
20 Jan 2024
Bookmarker's Notes
The holy Grail. It will take maybe a day to read it will hurt but oh so good soon fucking good
If you need to cry
