It seemed an odd haircut to me, but it wasn't my hair. She turned her head so I was suddenly way too close to her face, those wide-searching hazel eyes. Like my thoughts hit something around him, formed it into glass to hurt him. Let me in, and his voice spilled over my skin as if he'd covered me naked in satin and drawn it along my body.
The look on his face said, clearly, he didn't believe me. Opening the refrigerator was a chorus of bangs, slaps, and the like . You're not really good at it either, he said, with a smile to soften the harsh truth. I don't know why, maybe because I hadn't really thought about not being able to get away.
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