Title: Dead Man's Party
Author's Note: As many of you know, this is NOT my Gala fic entry (which I personally thought blew and was written solely toward the judges and voila: third place. If I'd taken more than 2 hours and thrown in a heaping dose of spelling errors, I might have even gotten second... end snark). This is part one of my attempt to do
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Comments 14
"Mick couldn't hold the frown, smiling despite himself. Beth pulled him close, rubbed her check against his, his lips tickling the warm wash of skin behind her ear. " Delicious, just delicious. Sigh.
Love you, girl. Such talent.
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Ultimately, I see these two in the metaphor of a dance, together, in step and in the same rhythm. Sigh.
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