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Summary
"Fucking fireworks," Trinity spat under her breath, dropping back onto the bench in a dramatic display for her audience of none. "Just a stupid idea."
"Santos? Did you say fireworks?"
Her head shot up, and she squinted, trying to make out the figure trodding towards her in the dark. Tiny, with a big ponytail bouncing behind her, and an overstuffed backpack.
Victoria Javadi.
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Trinity finds a new date to watch the fireworks with... and to do a little more than that.
