Cass was fighting for his life to not tear into the basket and tear open the books he'd purchased. The reason being, he did not want to get caught with his pants down.
What if the first book on top was a BL book and he didn't have enough time to cover it up and Sir Forsythe flung the door open only to reveal he was reading the nastiest, filthiest thing imaginable in this world while on the way to an orphanage?
He did not want that to happen. He hadn't screened Sir Forsythe on if that was a no no or not! It was a silly worry, but a worry nonetheless, and it plagued him.
Almost as much as thoughts of what Vespertine had done to him now that he was alone and didn't have a Sam to prattle on in his ear.
Fuck. He needed to get it out of his head. He really needed to.
