~Rory~For weeks, I’ve been dreaming of a boy with gray eyes, dark brown curls, and a snooty smirk. He was playing on the beach, sitting on the sand. His trousers were wet from the waves hitting his leg on the side, hands and toes were covered in sand... his cheeks too. He kept rubbing the back of his hands on his cheeks, leaving traces of wet sand there.He looked up and met my eyes, smiling brightly. Those gray eyes twinkled as his eyes narrowed to slits. He dropped the shells he was playing with and raised those tiny hands, opening and closing, asking to be picked up. When I didn’t, his lips quivered, eyes widened as a saucer, clouded with tears. His cry was so loud that I woke up from my sleep, discovering I was alone in our bed.Looking on Elijah’s side, a red rose lay on his pillow, weighing down a paper folded in half.The sun hasn’t risen yet, but he told me he’d be out the entire day to check the western border of Sapiro, accompanied by Henry.I reached for the rose, sniffing
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