Then Camille turns. Walks away. Leaves. Even paced in the footing, even as her breath quickens, face heats.
He fucking hates you.
How can he not? After a display like that? Snapping at him, like it's his fault she's back to walking the earth and he's letting her down by, what, feeling the same damn misery she is?
And he has that thing whispering to him. It's not like the abstract urges she'd felt that week. It's alive, with thoughts and sentiments that make too much sense to ignore.
The moment she's out of his sight, she bolts. Far, far, far. Not even a full day back and she's shot one good thing dead to the ground.]
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Then Camille turns. Walks away. Leaves. Even paced in the footing, even as her breath quickens, face heats.
He fucking hates you.
How can he not? After a display like that? Snapping at him, like it's his fault she's back to walking the earth and he's letting her down by, what, feeling the same damn misery she is?
And he has that thing whispering to him. It's not like the abstract urges she'd felt that week. It's alive, with thoughts and sentiments that make too much sense to ignore.
The moment she's out of his sight, she bolts. Far, far, far. Not even a full day back and she's shot one good thing dead to the ground.]