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Weekly Contest #287
Elliot stepped into his small apartment, the weariness of the day etched into the lines of his face. His suit, once sharp and tailored to perfection, hung crumpled on his lean frame, his tie loosened and askew. His usually composed demeanor cracked, revealing the frustration simmering beneath. His dark hair was slightly mussed, a result of the countless times he had raked his fingers through it in exasperation during the day. His eyes, the color of warm caramel that were often guarded and calculating, now held a trace of vulnerability as he ...
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