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supportive prayer.Yinglong stepped behind an otherworldly friend, the grass beneath his feet rustled his arrival. Before he noticed his unwelcome cut, whispering swept his ears. Discourtesy scrunched his eyes closed, his left cheek titled. Quickly, he winced an excuse, and resorted a small step back or two. A second later, his slit eyes drew slowly to the knelt woman. The offense was left ignored by this comrade-in-arms of hair blonde, skin milky. Her eyes fluttered a soft blue hue. Fingers interlocked, she resumed chanting. These same murmurs curtain a language Yinglong often heard before cluttering certain victory on the battlefield. His heels turned away to acknowledge the needed silence, while the woman deepened her solace, until her eyes fluttered again. Moments later, she looked up to the Mystic visitor, and stood from her bent position in full content.
His head lowered in humility, Yinglong greeted the same. "Again, I apologize if I caused an interruption." The Mystic's mellow demeanor was too sw
HS: Hour After Daybreak.He jested in between his mentoring sessions for his learning audience, lighthearted as his lessons were, yet only I in the crowd knew he brandished solace during his afternoon leisure by blade. Solemnly, I saw the man, a cultured gentleman, who once motioned a slight greeting ever so with a tip of his hat's brim, now bereaved and slump, forlorn. In cunning charm, I spotted, he lured, baited into his sniffling and tears.
On a midsummer night he took me away. The flame beside my bed gone before our last sighs, his body pillowed my own, our fingers laced together. Much wasn't said. Imprudence done.
Awoke from the lark's last chirp, my search ached for the bliss from the night before felt a heaved draft from my side. There. Buried the side of his face in our shared pillow, groggily he asked if I slept well. Nodded, my smile softened his concern. We sat up, our leisure withheld the morning's routine. Impetuous, his rough caress, I felt no peril. Sheltered myself onto his chest, he groomed m
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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