Don't know the name. By the time he came to me, he spoke in English. He sounded very sure. Neither Bernardo or Olaf are good enough.
I swallowed, wished I hadn't, and stared at the tips of my shoes. It wasn't dangerous, just a spill of heat, pulsing along my skin, a dance of energy that didn't belong to me. He wore a mask over his face. as if I'd kiss it, but I brushed my lips barely against his skin, moving up his arm, breathing in the scent of his skin.
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