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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
For a long time there was nothing but the touch of skin on skin and hair. Edward's body was warmer than mine, still. I wasn't completely sure what to do, or even what I was doing. But only once did I feel I was making a mistake, and that was when I felt the sharp points of teeth on my skin. I'm sure I cried out, but not because it hurt. Even under everything else I was afraid; but at the same time, I didn't have the strength to stop.





 
 
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