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Summary
He’ll take Orpheus to the sea again when he is free. Remind him what laughter is. To lick salt off your lips. To shake water from your skin. Whatever is left of our hair.
She reminded him what laughter was. A strange weightlessness across his chest. Brief, barely perceptible. Deniable. It has to be because of Orpheus, and that his freedom was so close. An answer so real he could touch it, fuck it, watch it want him because of his danger, dripping wet for the beast behind his eyes.
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