Kisunya

The dim hallway smelled of cool citrus zest. The man leaned against the locked door, twirling a peeled tangerine between his grubby fingers, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You know, I really, really like little tangerines," he muttered. "You're the first one to notice how sweet they taste when they're... stolen. What, aren't you going to ask where I got this one? Anyway, fuck off."

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