~HAZEL~As I watch Ashton near the stream, taking care of our clothes, there is plenty on my mind. I want to tell him that today, when his mouth was on me, something inside me rushed open and has been alive ever since. I want to tell him that the idea of "undoing" this, of going home and pretending none of it happened, feels like dying over and over again. But I say none of it.Instead I watch him wring out the dress, watch droplets race down his forearms, watch him lay the fabric across a low branch to dry. He does the same with his shirt. Then he straightens and finally looks at me, really looks at me, standing there in nothing but underwear and unsaid words between us.Breathe. Then his throat moves. "You're cold," he says, voice low, almost rough. “You need something to cover yourself.” I nod even though I know that's not why I'm shaking.Since I knew the real reason I was shivering, I planned on keeping it to myself, at least for now. I'm not cold. I'm burning.The desire bet
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