Are we reborn over and over again, to repeat the same cycles? “Would it be so bad?” “Are you reading my mind?” “You’re thinking with your eyes.” He smiles. I touch his face, and the smile vanishes. “Do it again.” “Don’t be a jackass.” I laugh. But there’s no amusement left in his face. It was swiftly erased. He looks at me with cold, hard eyes. I see what’s in them now. To the rest of the world, they might seem empty. I remember thinking a few times myself that they were void of all humanity, but that’s simply not true. He feels. Rage. Pain. Lust. So much emotion, electric beneath his skin. So
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