“Don’t be like that,” Rune said. “I meant what I said. I don’t like the idea of you leaving me so soon, not yet. And I suppose, if you must die, I’d prefer to be the one to kill you.” “How poetic,” Elma said. “Not to mention,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling. “I revile the idea of that sweet, wet pussy going forever unplowed.” “For god’s sake,” Elma spat, scrambling to her feet in annoyance. “I hate you.”
