[ he gives her one last squinty-eyed stare, but the second she gives him the out he's beating feet as fast as he can. which isn't very rip. between his slight limp situation and the alcohol still weighing down his bones it's more of a pathetic shuffle in the opposite direction, but the second he's out of her earshot he's muttering to himself. ] Good going, Castle. [ you're better than this. he's clearly, seriously not. ]
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