“Crisis was like a leech that kept sucking the blood out of me, but it wasn’t blood. It was my coldness. It was as if he was the heater turned on high and I was the block of ice that was slowly melting.”
“Crisis was like a leech that kept sucking the blood out of me, but it wasn’t blood. It was my coldness. It was as if he was the heater turned on high and I was the block of ice that was slowly melting.”
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