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Summary
Joshua Graham found The Courier under the vast night sky of Zion, and discovered one thing that day; that they fit together perfectly.
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He had snaked his right hand under her singlet, massaging the matching breast there. He could feel the coldness of her skin, the hardness of her nipple as he ran his thumb over it. A keloid scar could be felt just underneath it, rough and pink through.
"Lung drip. Got mucus in my chest after falling into Lake Mead”, she answered his poking question, closing her eyes, letting herself be lost at Joshua’s touch.
“You’ve been very busy”, he hummed.
“Oh, I just look after burnt preachers as a hobby”, she opened one eye mischievously.
“I’m a missionary, not a preacher”
“Ah, cause preachers can’t have sex”