His cropped hair was so pale it was almost transparent. He pulled at his fringe of bangs as if he would like to make them longer, to hide behind them for privacy. Instead though, his hunted eyes looked out from a fragile, exposed bone structure. He could have cut himself on his own cheekbones. What the rest of his face lacked in softness, however, was made up for in his expressive mouth, pulled into a tentative pout. He looked breakable and I wanted nothing more than to be the one to break him. I moved closer, already feeling the wetness making my tight ...

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