She was wan and white. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. She mentally reprimanded herself to alter her own visage so as not to appear depraved. She did not care that vampire children are abominations. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. The rogue took everything we had.
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