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Summary
It was the weed, and the pilfered whiskey from Steve’s daddy dearest they passed back and forth.
It was actually how Steve’s eyes caught the moonlight. How his mouth moved when he spoke, and how it curved on a grin Billy would call relaxed when they were alone.
Admitting as much felt too much like giving ground, and so it was the weed and whiskey.
Series
- Part 1 of slipping through
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Bookmark Notes:
the kind of love that will find me
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