kaz ruby 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

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“Three,” he whispered. He was being an idiot, baiting her this way. “Two.” But something had to give, and it wouldn’t be him. “One.” A door slammed upstairs. The subsequent gut punch he felt wasn’t entirely due to anger, and that infuriated him the most.
I Am Made of Death
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