Quinn Connelly

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Cade embraces me until I’m out of breath. I let him. I let him have it all so he breathes easier. When his exhales aren’t so shaky, and his heartbeat calms beneath my touch, Cade lifts his head, face made of stone, eyes broken—but ready. Lips against mine, he vows, “I got you.” “Until the end.”
The Death of Us
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