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R can't remember the difference between "romantic" and "creepy." Julie's been nice about explaining for R to make notes: a heart-shaped box of candy is romantic, the heart out of the chicken they made for dinner last night is not.
Julie isn't any better at romance. Her life has been terror and a dead boyfriend who loved the cause more than he loved her. If pretty jewelry can't be used to save her life, it's useless.
Sometimes, though, they stretch out together, watching the jealous moon rise through the window, and the warmth she feels is hotter than the sunrise.