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Summary
Her hand, moving with an alcohol-induced lack of inhibition, rose to his face. Her fingers, warm and calloused, gently traced the edge of the blackened skin. He didn't flinch away.
"It's not as bad as you said," she whispered, her thumb hovering over a blue vein that glowed like a tiny, frozen river.
"It is enough," he said, his voice now stripped of its metallic resonance, deeper and more human.
Or Mavuika and Capitano sneak away from the celebreation and get drunk
