eighty seven

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Ink sniffled, rubbing his tears away on Error's sweater. He was smiling like the stupid idiot Error always called him at the smell of hot chocolate that was practically permeated into Error's clothes. The hand, starting cautiously but soon catching onto a rhythm, rubbing his back was more soothing than anything he could have imagined.

"Yo-ur staining my s-wea-ter yell-ow." Error grumbled after Ink seemed to have calmed a little.

Ink had to lean back to see, only barely making an attempt to wipe off the yellow paint dribbling down his chin. "At least our teeth match." And then he kissed Error.

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