Maybe I'd call her tomorrow and see if she'd talk, see if there was still enough friendship left to save. I touched her hand where it lay clenched on the tabletop. , not flat, but propped on his elbows, so that the shimmering scarlet framed his muscular upper body. I pushed my back tight into the tree, as if the solid wood could catch me, because I felt like I was falling.
He nodded. He blinked dark eyes at me as if he didn't remember seeing me before, or know how he came to be lying on top of me. Okay, then can I ask a question? Depends on the question, she said. She-who-made-us said once that the scar saved his life, because without it, his hair was more blond than hers, his eyes more blue.
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