« You’re afraid,” I murmur, noticing the emotions pulsing from him.
“I’m terrified,” he whispers back. “Of what you’re capable of. Because you’re here, walking on a razor-thin line. I’ve been afraid ever since I met you, when you looked me straight in the eye and broke down my system in a matter of minutes. I spent hours afterward studying what you did. I remember everything you’ve ever said to me.” An ache enters his voice. “I’m afraid that every time I see you might be the last.”
I think back to the piercing gaze he’d given me during our last meeting. Underneath that had been fear, all along. “You told me you never wanted to see me again,” I manage to say.
His voice is low and raw. “Because every time I see you, it takes everything in me to turn away. »
L'information veut être libre
Mais ce soir, ce n'est pas pour ça que j'entrerai dans l'arène.
Il est toujours plus facile de détruire que de créer.
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