[ She watches the way he turns over his palm. There's something on his wrist; he's definitely looking at something, but in the poor light of the fake stars, she can't exactly tell what it is.
Something about his expression, the words he chose. "Monster." She's seen it somewhere before. ]
Of course you're not a monster. [ Or a maniac. ] Why... Why would you think that?
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Something about his expression, the words he chose. "Monster." She's seen it somewhere before. ]
Of course you're not a monster. [ Or a maniac. ] Why... Why would you think that?