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Summary
The knife clattered against the tiles, far from them, too far now, and the flash of regret in Carl's eyes was almost enough to tear Akram down.
"Not here. Not like this. But next time you feel like fighting, you call me." A semblance of control, his hand back on Carl's wrists—fine, strong, like marble he would admire in his youth —, demanding, until the man's whimper could sound like a yes.
Series
- Part 1 of Strange Love
