“You’re home late.

“You’re home late.” They said in unison. That was one of the things he loved about them. They never bothered with individuality or conformity. Those things just didn’t exist for his little golden friends. They were one mind, and when he was with them, he belonged. “Yeah,” he said, dropping his bag and joining them in the warm liquid of the cube, “but I’m home.”

– menstos.deviantart.com

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