[a while later, august shows up at nic's door, sandwich(es) in a paper bag, gripped rather roughly in one hand. they aren't smushed, luckily, but the bag is starting to look a little worse for wear.
speaking of worse for wear: august.
but let's not talk about that. he's letting himself in after ringing the doorbell once, slipping off his shoes at the door and wandering through the house. he reaches the living room, shrugging his shoulders and motioning loosely to the room as a whole,]
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speaking of worse for wear: august.
but let's not talk about that. he's letting himself in after ringing the doorbell once, slipping off his shoes at the door and wandering through the house. he reaches the living room, shrugging his shoulders and motioning loosely to the room as a whole,]
Honey, I'm home.