[R. F.] (
unflagging) wrote2012-10-17 10:55 am
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[ ρѕℓ ]
[Herein shall there be PSLs and goings-on.
Please exercise caution if you so choose to read this. Flagg being Flagg, I cannot guarantee everything that goes on here will be safe for work or even safe for life.]
Please exercise caution if you so choose to read this. Flagg being Flagg, I cannot guarantee everything that goes on here will be safe for work or even safe for life.]
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Something mostly being incentive to go, really. She'd made enough mistakes to last her a few centuries tonight. No need to press her luck and stay past her window of grace.
She sat up, drawing her shirt up against herself.
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So she slid off the altar without looking at him, pausing there to redress. She took her time, purposefully slow and casual, as if this had not been a completely scarring experience, as if she wasn't drowning in guilt at the very moment.
"I remember."
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He calmed himself again with a sigh and watched her as she dressed. Such a shame to see all those lovely curves disappear under those clothes again.
"I'm so glad you do."
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"Something funny?" Cordelia asked, after she had crouched down to pick up the abandoned key.
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He slid down to the floor himself now, collecting discarded his discarded shirt, his tossed-aside jeans. He passed a hand over his face and magicked off the blood as easily as he'd magicked off the spittle before. He flung it aside, a deft snap of his fingers. It spattered on the wall--only pinprick spots of red.
"I am glad you remember, though. Oh, truly, I am."