He slowly starts to uncurl. There's light in the closet now, but the door is still amost all the way closed. Without speaking, he looks down at the cup. It's foam, with a plastic lid. He picks it up and lifts it to his mouth, carefully taking a sip. It's hot, and sweet, and he can taste the whipped cream- cool, but creamy. He doesn't realize it, but he's smiling. "It's good," he says quietly, relaxing a little.
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