~Slade’s Point of View~ When you have the same dream every single night of your life, it’s nearly impossible to wrap your head around it standing in front of you. I had to be hallucinating, maybe I died when I fell in the pond. That must be it. I hit my head on that downed tree and not my shoulder. “Fuck,” I groaned, as the woman in front of me examined my arm. That got my attention. “So? I’m sure this was a hell of a story,” she said, sniffing. “What the fuck that smell,” she continued, wiggling her nose. Don’t get hard right now Slade. Fucking Christ, please don’t. How could I not with her hands on me? Granted she was wearing purple gloves but still. Her cute little nose, she’s so expressive. When she speaks she does it with her whole face. Holly Anderson. My Holly. She was my Holly for nearly ten years. More than a third of my life. “It’s uhm, pond water,” I mumbled. She raised her eyebrow, the way I’d seen a thousand times. The way she always did when I did something
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