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I watched the moments he held dearest in my mind’s eye. It was never the grand events that these souls broadcasted out into the universe as they separated from their mortal bodies. Not the weddings or the graduations, though occasionally the birth of a child made its way in. It was the quiet moments—the man’s wife handing him a perfect cup of tea, an afternoon nap on the couch with his favorite cat, his daughter’s giggles as he pushed her on a swing, the scent of the perfume that his mother had favored when he was young. I did not know him, but in that moment, I loved him. Just as I loved
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There, on a massive four-poster bed laden with heavy blankets, lay my wife. Perhaps “betrothed” was the correct title, as we hadn’t performed the ceremony yet, but to me it didn’t matter. She would be mine, and so she already was.
We are the surgeon’s hands this time, cheating death. I think we can cheat death once every few hundred years.”
Life and death will fade away and every version of this planet will crumble into dust, and I will still belong to you.”
Then I’d endured another torturous day of nothing but erotic hand holding that made me want to scream. Every touch, every lazy movement of his thumb skimming the sensitive skin between my thumb and forefinger, made my heart beat faster. I didn’t understand how he could get me so worked up with nothing but his fingers brushing along mine, but I’d never felt so repressed in all my life.
He was too busy having an aneurism or solving the mysteries of the universe or whatever it was he was doing while staring at my tits.
How does one seduce a reaper?