Hunted By The Player
I can’t bear to smile anymore.
*
“What did you think?” Hunter asks me. He still has that annoying little smile. I can see a profile of it as we rest, back in his Ferrari.
“It was very... Well, weird, fun, crazy, beautiful and tiring,” I babble.
“I told you it would be a piece of cake.” His smile of victory and mockery is the most charming of all. “Strange and fun,” he repeats, laughing.
“I'm starving.” I look at him with puppy-dog eyes.
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