“Classic. Contemplative Cancer.” How the hell? “Run a background check on me, didya then?” “Pfft. I just did the math. Besides, this” – Lark gestured to my entire form – “screams crustacean. I had you pegged as a water sign from the first time we met.” “I don’t believe in that. And refrain from suggesting you’ve pegged me, please.” “Would you let me run your natal chart? You’re a Scorpio moon, I bet.”
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