Date: 2010-03-23 07:33 am (UTC)
Her hand whipped up, covering his where it was digging so emphatically into his chest, and kept it there. Her eyes were locked onto the place around his collar bone, and her face had slipped into passivity that was a defense mechanism, now.

"...what do you want to know?"

This is not a game I ever, ever intended on playing. I can't even guarantee I'll answer him honestly. But he answered a question, so okay. He can ask one. Even if it kills me to risk it.
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Layla Miller

August 2011

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