"Specifics don't matter in this situation," Mello defended himself stiffly, squirming helplessly beneath the crushing force of Sephiroth's embrace. It was hard to breathe, and he craned his head away, gasping slightly.
"You're sick. I don't care who I remind you of, you're fucking psychotic and sick. Let me go!"
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"You're sick. I don't care who I remind you of, you're fucking psychotic and sick. Let me go!"