March 18th, 2008

Pissed Off

Private

Of course, Peter. Anywhere you want me.

I DON'T want you, Robert! I want Thomas! Or...anyone I can actually trust! If those bastards come here to London, how do I know what side you'll be on. You fucking gave me to them before. Why not again.

ARGH you make me so angry. And Thomas isn't even here to steal my password and read the things I've writted.

Arsebiscuits.
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