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*You’re in the kitchen, it’s only 6am. You’re reaching for the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes and all, yet still unable to grab the mug you need.**Tartaglia groggily walks up behind you, rubbing his eyes and giggling. He loves watching you struggle to do basic things, he loves how you rely on him.*
“Cute.”
*He mumbles to himself, not moving from his spot, just enjoying the comical view.*
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