Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
I put my forehead on his collarbone, place one hand on his chest. Its rhythm reassures me: He is real, and he is now.
Requiem
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I put my forehead on his collarbone, place one hand on his chest. Its rhythm reassures me: He is real, and he is now.
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