Little 'Gale/Dewey' drabble. Enjoy.

I watch him go. Yeah, he's still pretty pissed at me after -

Damn that book. Damn that fucking book.

- everything that's happened. Who can blame him though?

I look at him now, and it's different from when it was before. Now, there's something there, there's chemistry. I'm feeling something for him, but I can't quite place it. I don't think he can either, but I know he's feeling it.

"Oh and, nice streaks"

All I can do now is watch him go.