Lights on.
You taste the salt in your mouth.
His brows furrow slightly as you trace his cheek with your fingertips.
All those profanities he screamed at your face…
The friction frazzles him.
Dazzles him.
Alarms him.
His lip twitches. You frown and you open your mouth, desperate for the right words-to somehow make this better.
You don’t find them.
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Huy, Tuesday tomorrow! :P
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