hope

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“I’m sorry.” “Shut up,” I tell him, voice breaking. I bury my nose in his wet hair. “Shut up so hard.” His shoulders shake at that and I smile. He’s bigger than me, only just. And usually a force strong enough to withstand anything. But tonight, right now, he’s mine to hold. Mine to protect. Mine to shield from what tomorrow might bring.
Still Beating (Lost Boys, #2.6)
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