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Summary
Till had wandered in from the other side of the floor, weaving through the haze and bodies like a thread of starlight on acid. Teal eyes sharp but glazed, lips parted, his shaggy silver-blue hair stuck to his cheeks with sweat. His cheeks were flushed, tank top and jacket too big for his frame, skin glimmering under neon lights. He was fucking high.
Ivan didn’t breathe.
Title from Sheena Ringo.
Series
- Part 1 of hypnopagnia
