For absolutely no logical reason whatsoever, today I’m unable to ignore him. Or maybe there is a reason; maybe War’s barbaric justice earlier today broke something in me. Whatever the reason, now I can’t help but notice the sharp cut of his jaw; his dark, almost black hair; and those curving lips. I take in his red leather armor and his powerful thighs. I’m having thigh fantasies. About my enemy. I’m a fucking moron. Naturally, of course, that doesn’t stop me from continuing to glance at War, and the longer I look, the more certain I am that I want to run my fingers over his strange, glowing
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