But as my friend, I was saying fuck no with a spiky dildo. Because I’d loved her just as much, missed her just as much. He didn’t get to swoop down like some possessive eagle and whisk her away before I’d barely said so much as a hello. I’d done my time missing her too, hating myself over what we’d done to her, going over every single thing I’d do if she ever came back. And fuck if I was going to miss my shot because he called dibs. Of course, the element of danger helped. Because I liked the rush of doing something bad, of how fucking good it was to have her this close and have her look at me
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