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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
Kissing the incubus was as different from kissing Edward as kissing Edward was from kissing a girl. I spent several seconds marveling at how soft his lips were. This kiss was all encompassing, and yet I got no sensation of loosing anything, and believe me, I was watching for it (admitably, I was watching for it with the small corner of my mind that was not being flooded with lust, but I was watching.)

After what could have been a minute, an hour, an eternity, the kiss ended. Blinking, I rocked backward to put space between us.

"How sad." the incubus said after a long moment. "You're going to die."
"What?" I choked, covering my mouth with a hand.
"Don't be so sad." he retorted with a wry smile. "All mortal things die. Someday, I will die." He stood up and I scrambled backwards out of the circle. "But it is sad that I will likely never see you again."
"So you're going to go then." it came out of my mouth without my thinking of it.
"I gave my word." the incubus said in what had to be a conscious parody of my words. He folded his wings around himself like a sleeping bat. "Goodbye, little magician. Thank you."

I expected theatre; smoke, and fire, or mist and mirrors, but one moment he was there, and the next he was not, and neither was the carefully scribed circle.





 
 
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