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27

The tension mulling around in my stomach doesn't leave me, even as I wake.

Marek haunted my dreams all last night, and apparently my first waking hours. It were his eyes, usually a warm, cornflower blue like the wildflowers that grow endlessly along the line of the forest, now like chunks of sharp ice, a dagger like glare chasing me through my nightmares. His intentions, etched permanently within my mind.

He wanted to kiss me. Did I want to kiss him? It surely felt good, but only for the fleeting moment I al

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