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My gaze flashes silver to meet his, as my other hand traces the scars on his arms that he has clasped around my waist. “We always find a way to be the deadliest.”
Apparently those are the magic words, because his lips come down on mine, and he lifts me, carrying me as I grin against his lips.
“We’ll be deadly tomorrow,” he murmurs against my mouth.
Echoing his words, I repeat, “Tomorrow.”
#TheEnd
