Touch

Jules fingered the curl on her cheek, so pale below the light eyes, still of lash, directionless or finding infinity.

But her lobe burned his finger tips, a door on fire warning, don’t look at the bruising neck adorned simply with a rope.

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Rating: 5.5/10 (2 votes cast)
Touch, 5.5 out of 10 based on 2 ratings

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