His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. \" He said with a question in his voice, a question that revealed that he was intimidated, and not only that, but he had it bad. Very well, then. "One of us has got to die," he panted. I felt his heart. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. Just my room. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture.
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