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“Don’t cry,” Damiano said tersely, a muscle jumping by his temple. “It’s not worth crying over.” I’m not worth crying over.
Ughhhhhhhh
Frédérique Delmotte liked this
Don’t go, Jordan wanted to say. Come back to me, he wanted to say. I love you, he wanted to say. He said nothing, the words getting stuck somewhere in his throat, like a painful lump.
one of these days I'll enter these damned books to unclog their damned throats so they speak their damned minds for once
