running with scissors
#4
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indent His fire-red eyes looked at her sharply. The eyes were the only things that really gave them much difference. In her face he saw a young woman who had grown up knowing her parents for what they were; liars, fakes, hypocrites. One preached intolerance and slept with the things she hated, another had turned his back on all responsibility. Even now, he was running. No answers, just questions, just vague, hollow ideas.
indent “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “You shut me out.”





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