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“But you smell of Casteel.” I jolted at the sound of his name. His real name. “I am wearing his shirt.” “That’s not the kind of smell I’m talking about.”
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
Because Hawke wasn’t his name. And we hadn’t made love. He’d fucked me.
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
“Was any of it true?”
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
“Poppy. Stop—” “I hate you!”
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
my head doesn’t…go quiet. It replays things over and over,”
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
The pain and anger were still there. But Hawke was so warm, and his embrace was…gods, it felt like hope, like a promise that I wouldn’t always feel this way
Naomyje citiralaprošle godine
Sometimes remembering those who died means facing your own mortality,