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Summary
In the silence, she can almost hear the unsteady crack in his voice as he begged her to touch him, to hold him, to show him what he’d never known before. Like a song etched into her soul, she’s memorized the rhythm of their bodies together. Fifty years later, it still pulses through her veins as though it were the only thing keeping her alive.
Or,
Rosie hunts Alastor with the intent to either interrogate him or eat him. She decides to just fuck him instead.