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Good girl

Everything seemed to stop: time and space, my frantic heart, and my sassy preschoolers-leveled name-calling. There were only his green eyes, which were sparkling in the dimmed light, intense and so close. I swallowed hard, opened, and closed my mouth like a goldfish on land several times.

Our breaths had a pull-and-release game going on; his hot breath brushed over my skin as I slowly filled my lungs and the other way around.

The moment was intense, and I had no problem seeing he was angry or, with some luck, just annoyed. I wanted to apologize, but I also wanted to call him an arrogant ass hat and bad-quality snake boots. Maybe this was the moon goddess's way of helping me, making me unable to say a single word and making the situation even worse than it was. Reality slowly kept up my skin, reminding me I had become too comfortable, hammered in the fact that I was a prisoner here. A commoner, in his eyes, was brought here to be a research thing. How could I forget my cursed faith so
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