Terence materialised before him, his ever-present smile on his face, impeccably dressed in a sleek dark green suit that somehow reminded Lance of the Joker's attire.
Terence continued to grasp his hand, and Lance gradually withdrew his hand, resting it on his own lap.
"Good afternoon," Lance replied, keeping his gaze fixed on Terence, "You orchestrated those zerg attacks on the western border, didn't you?"
Terence responded, his eyebrows raised,
"That's not me. I have no interest in being hostile to the Alliance. You must know that all my attention is focused on you now, Lancelot."
"Stop fretting over me. Perhaps we can discuss something else, my former lover." Lance moved aside and signalling Terence to sit down, "Why do you like me?"
Terence inched closer, his fingertips brushing against Lance's cheeks, his dark eyes burning with obsession.
"It's exquisite, Lancelot. You're even more captivating when you despise me."
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