[ he doesn't respond to that, though he has something drafted about reliability before he decides against it. god, he's a loser. the coffee maker beeps and he sets his phone down to be forgotten in the living room as he moves into the tiny kitchen to pour himself a cup and try to calm down. (frank, coffee doesn't work that way.) okay but like, shut up. he turns on the tv to some old movie marathon and doesn't pay attention to it — physically can't. he already feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin. frank paces his two-step hallway and slams coffee while he waits for her. this is normal and totally fine. obviously. ]
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