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17

I hate myself for leaving a loophole so that Hunter can pull out the intrinsic root of my past. I hate the rough touch of vulnerability that forces me to oscillate between pains that should have been forgotten for a long time. I hate having to bite my lip to contain the sob in my throat and remember to keep my armor impenetrable. I hate to recognize that my wounds have been open since the breakup with Dean, and that I can have a relapse at any time.

The truth is that without the bitterness in my heart, I can undo myself as easily as a tower of cards is blown.

Hunter's chest moves at an accelerated pace, attracting my attention back to his muscles. For some strange reason, he seems bewildered and, at the same time, consumed by remorse. If I'm not mistaken, the opacity in your eyes is taking you away. Who knows for some memory that he would not like to remember.

We were like this for some time; trapped in obscene silence, staring at each other and not knowing what to say. Above all, bec
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