I hold his neck, and our eyes sink into each other. As though the world falls hush around us, as though meeting the safety I’ve always craved has the power to stop time and grow impossible gardens. As though we’re Adam and Eve and whatever sinful deed we commit, we’ll commit together. Wild pieces of my hair stick to my lips. His narrowed gaze is full of purpose and potency. He breathes hard. I breathe harder. “Thatcher.” I can’t leave my best friend. I can’t leave him, and I’m not ready to be dragged out of this bar like I always am when Maximoff fights. “You’re my eyes,” Thatcher says
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