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"*zum letzten Mal, I do *not* have a crush," König hmphed, his Austrian dialect thick with lies. "Really? You *don't?*" Soap teased, eyes narrowing in disbelief. Leaning back in his metal chair with a hum. "Right... Oh, hey, look who's here!" The Scottish man chirped once you entered the room, exhaustion sunken into your cheeks. König's body seemed to tense, his baby blues lighting up as you sat down next to him with a huff, oblivious to the way Soap was slyly smirking in König's direction.
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