• Mature • [Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

(Freya, Wendell) What could possibly go wrong.

Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.

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Patrick
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[Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

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The Drunk and a Pirate

Vhalar 72 716, 20th Break

Location: Harlot 'n' Hound

It had more or less started to become a place he favored quite a bit, mostly due to the late night festivities and wilder nature of those who dwelt here. The Hound was a place Patrick thoroughly enjoyed for a good time and not just because of the services, though he did love those as well, but because of the staff and people he got to spend time and enjoy the nights with. Often there were games played where several people gambled, then there were the entertainers who loved to strip just to their small clothes, and then there were those that served up the refreshments while everybody enjoyed the possibility of vices that existed here. Rharne had been getting chilly lately because of the rains but it did good for the crops, and knowing the colder season was right around the corner, Patrick knew the days of wearing lighter clothes were limited and dwindling fast. Still he rather enjoyed being indoors more than out and so long as the fun kept coming, he needn't worry about needing to be drunk off his ass before the night was over.

So far he'd done a decent job in starting a 'control' over his habit by useful consideration in the amount of consumption that followed, often he still wound up drunk off his ass but there really hadn't been any episodes as of late so far. What began as rocky season for him has slowly started to become a process of recuperation with the things that mattered, seeing as how he needed to deal with the mourning process over his brother's death. And of course the one and only thing he'd came across that could lead him to discover a murderer in Rharne was in his possession, only unreadable because of the damned language that the dead Aukarian wrote with. He'd been careful as to avoid any confrontation with anybody about it, as he didn't want anybody aware that he had the book in his possession. There was no rush to the matter anyways, just the search for somebody that could either teach him the language written... or decipher the wretched book their selves. Either way the matter was regarded for a later date as booze had been brought to him once more, the younger lady known as Sugar gave him a shot as he sat at the bar, waiting for Wendell to appear out from the back somewhere.

Customers were always needing something and he was indeed a man of many talents, Patrick was all too familiar himself at what the man could do anyways. Needless to say he didn't intend to just hang out and do nothing in Wendell's absence, no he intended to be drunk and have fun like the rest of the folk here. "Ha, thanks love!" He called above the loud revelry as he accepted the shot, the harlot's lips swept into a rebellious smile as she moved further along to serve customers elsewhere. "Cheers." He mused in a lower tone no doubt he would only hear, the shot downed in one tilt as he felt the burn of whiskey. It was always the whiskey that had the strongest burn, and a result that required him to shake it off for just a moment. He had already gotten buzzed after sitting here for a while, so he figured why not look around and see who he could try and just have some fun with, rather than rely on Wendell to sate such notions by whatever means necessary.
Last edited by Patrick on Wed Oct 26, 2016 7:53 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 614
"Freedom is everything."


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Freya DuCarinos
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[Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

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Common Rakahi
Freya entered the notorious tavern known as the Harlot 'n' Hound with Qyona, Gorroc, and Haraji following in toe behind her. The young Biqaj wasn't much for taverns of this sort, where half naked women paraded around in their undergarments to entice money from the customers pockets. Though her disdain was hidden through seasons of working at the Crest Break and having to show off her cleavage a time or two for some extra nel. They had made a game of it, so she'd told Valkan who wandered elsewhere in the city, but what they did here was far beyond a game. Or maybe it was THE game?
“By the Fates...” Haraji bit his bottom lip, watching as a pale skinned woman clad in nothing but a thin piece of clothing over her chest and hips wandered around the edge of a table, eyes shimmering gold and pink. The man didn't say another word as he pushed through the patrons toward her.
Frowning, Freya went to turn to the others but found herself standing alone as they had already merged with the crowd that somehow made up the tavern. A shake of her head pointed her toward the bar where she took up a seat next to a man who seemed quite cheerful. He must have been drunk already...
Prior to their arrival, the Biqaj woman made purchase of Katomise— a liquid drug she liked to enjoy with her drinks. Freya also figured Valkan would enjoy such a treat but didn't incline to mention that as one of the reasons for its purchase. The bottle was safely tucked in her pocket as she stripped her leather jacket from her shoulders and tossed it on the back of the chair. The tavern was already hot and held a certain, unmistakable stench that somehow heightened the senses.
Freya ignored it, leaning forward. “Sorry.” She waved to one of the harlots, ”A drink for me?”
Her broken common and deep accent was noticeably confusing. Even the mocha fleshed woman had to perch forward, her bosom pressing to the counter as her brow quirked in question.
“Excuse me, what was that?”
“Drink for me, one please.” Freya repeated, a bit louder. “A flagon of Meat?”
“Um, Pardon?” Sugar was confused now.
“Meat?”
Realization dawned on her then, “Do you mean Mead? Is that what you want?”
Freya ran a hand through her hair and nodded, a slight blush tinted her cheeks as yet again, her common knowledge failed her. The lessons did little to help her, it seemed. Sugar stepped away just as the man beside her downed the shot and rested the glass back on the counter, as if greedy for more. He looked greedy, a bit restless even. A smile crept to her lips as her hand slid over the tiny bottle of Katomise in her pocket. Maybe she'd care to tests its purity and potency on this fellow? Best to let strangers try than she, of course.
“Wait!” Freya called when Sugar tried to step away after resting the full flagon of mead in front of her. “Shot too, Whiskey?”
“Two shots of whiskey, sure.”
“Wait, no two— too!” But the woman already left to serve her.
Well, she supposed, this man was lucky enough to get a double dose of happy, fun-time galore drugs.
The shots were placed in front of Freya just a bit later and very casually, she peered around to make sure others were looking else where. It would be just her luck to get caught slipping drugs to someone unaware, but she was more concerned about guards being called rather than getting kicked out of the Tavern.
Slyly, she dipped into her pocket and stole the bottle, grasping it tightly in her palm as to hide it from view. Her other hand swiped her hair over her shoulders and slid from her neck to her shirt, dragging attention to her pronounced collarbone and swell of bosom just before her cleavage as to distract anyone who fancied a look her way. With the bottle in her other hand, she used callused fingers to pop the top off while casually dropping blue tinted liquid into the shots. Then, just as casually, she capped the bottle and returned it to her pocket.
A pleasant smile on her lips, she turned bright, shimmering gold eyes to the man and pushed both shots toward him, “Would you like?” She called, “Mistake. I want drink, not shot. Please have?” Her nail tapped on the flagon before swooping down to push the shots closer to him.
“I am Freya.” The trafficker greeted with awkward common.
word count: 780
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[Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

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Hair disheveled and the buttons of his shirt slipped into all the wrong keeps, Wendell returned from out back to help man the bar. Sugar pat his sides, stopping him in his tracks. She smoothed down his hair, combing it with her fingers and undid his buttons to fasten them correctly for him, leaving the top two undone on purpose, knowing how the ladies liked to see a bit of muscle and chest hair.
“You're drunk,” she scolded, “and it's only early.”
“I'm fine,” he insisted, “stop fussing!”
“Patrick is here again.”
Wendell smirked knowingly. “He plastered?”
“Quite.”
“Damn, this is too easy.”
Sugar smacked the man before passing him by. “Be nice, he clearly has a crush.”

Wendell served a couple of patrons stationed at the bar before he moved to stand across from Patrick. He noticed two upturned shots and a third still on the counter, waiting to be downed. The tall male reached out and took the last shot, drinking it down without pause or permission. He was already tipsy on whiskey and high on buzz, so when the new shot hit the back of his throat, he didn't even flinch.

There was lipstick on his neck and collar, the familiar light bruising of teeth-marks dotted across the skin, and the long sleeves of his black shirt had been folded up to sit just below his elbows. The music was loud and the customers were rowdy. It would probably be a break or two before any of the staff started walking around the place topless, though some of the gamblers sat around the designated card tables were more than likely to start paying for that soon.

“Patrick, you brought a friend?” Wendell smirked as his eyes found Freya. “More than happy to recreate the other night,” he teased, rubbing his fingers together as if to suggest coin would buy them just about anything here. “Or,” Wendell leaned against the bar, pinning Freya with a look, her features a little blurred. “He could just watch while we show him how it's done, gorgeous.” Was she gorgeous, he wondered, blinking away the haze from his vision in the dim light. Those eyes.
word count: 369
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Just when it seemed his night couldn't get any more entertaining along comes the break where tops were slowly coming off and the coin soon raked in, if there had been one thing Patrick had learned in his time here its that Madame Rose had a knack for running a business. Not too long ago he'd asked Wendell to put in a good word for him, and thankfully that was all it took for Patrick to get his foot inside the door. Of course he was still learning the ropes of this business save for the act entertainment, that was something he endeavored to naturally be good at. For whatever reason he felt like he'd been in a business with competition, and his would be rival the very person he'd asked to help him be recruited in the first place. It wasn't that he wanted to do better than Wendell, but more or less just be as good of an entertainer as he was, show Wendell that he could be just as good in other things too.

Aside from that though he'd been more or less enjoying the nights festivities, as he hadn't been required for anyone's services so far. More or less the fun in being here and part of the group was all he wanted, and while he wouldn't have minded spending time with Wendell, alone, he knew there were plenty of other chances sometime later. A woman however seemed to take a seat next to him and ordered herself a mug of ale, along with two shots of whiskey that she apparently didn't actually want it seems. To Patrick it was almost as entertaining as watching the harlots of The Hound prance around in nothing but their underclothes, but with the foreign sound of her accent and poorly arranged Common his curiosity had been more aroused. At first he'd glanced at her while she seemed focused on the shots before her, unaware of what her true intention was as he didn't want to just blatantly stare. She definitely seemed a fair lady to be seen with, from what he could tell she'd had rich dark brown hair, and a vividly tan complexion that immediately labeled her as a sailor. She had to be a Biqaj if anything, though Patrick didn't want to jump to conclusions right off the bat.

When she'd offered him the whiskey drinks and grabbed his attention, Patrick more or less pretended to be surprised about her presence, though really quite humbled that she'd offered the drinks to him anyway. "Oh! Ya want me t' have them? So long as ya don't mind, I'll pay fer them my self lass." He gave a wink as he took the first of the two shots nudged his way, a short toast propped her way in a way of thanks. With the shot downed and the glass tapped on the counter Patrick sighed as the burn didn't seem to have as strong of an appeal, already his mind felt on the verge of tipsy while his stomach grew warm and fuzzy. He loved that aspect about whiskey, the way the alcohol made his entire gut warm up inside. "Thanks lass, Freya ye said your name was? Call me Pat, anythin' ya need I'm here for." He offered with a soft and humbled smile as he hoped to return the favor, Wendell's hand suddenly grabbed the second shot before Patrick registered his presence. "Took ya long enough, was beginnin' t' worry she'd never get done." He joked towards the bartender as he glanced back to Freya, a shrug followed when he answered Wendell's own question.

"I'd be happy t' as well but only if she's interested." He added to the joke with a short laugh to follow, his arms folded on the counter as he slightly shook his head. "Nope! It'll be me showin' you how it's done right, how you really treat the ladies." He teased with his own soft wink shot towards Freya, the colored feature of her eyes finally noted to signify her heritage. Now he was even more intrigued by this woman, even more so than before anyways, and now that Wendell had mentioned it; he really wouldn't mind going for another bout between the sheets with Wendell and another involved. Rei was fun for sure, but a stranger like Freya sparked a different sort of curiosity in him. One he'd felt to slowly start growing the longer time seemed to pass.
word count: 777
"Freedom is everything."


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[Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

Common Rakahi
Freya cursed lightly to herself when she watched as another man, disheveled in a 'just sarded' kind of way, approached the two at the bar and downed the second shot she offered to the man known as 'Pat'. Now the Katomise was settling within both men and they would soon began to feel the sweat and urge of it, along with the abnormal high it brought, in just a few short bits.
She'd seen people on Katomise before and it had been quite embarrassing to watch those try it for the first time, but Freya wasn't too sure the batch was even good. She was new in a city she knew nothing about and no, the drug dealers around here could have given her tinted sugar water or worse, poison.
With a mental sigh, the young biqaj could only watch and wait to see if the drug would take effect, or know if it was a fake. She turned her attention back to the conversation at hand, pulling the flagon close to her before lifting it to her lips and taking long pulls from it. The mead was sweet and she found herself quite thirsty after the meeting.
She was also using the drink as a way to hide the small blush on her cheeks, knowing the comments directed at her were anything but appropriate. The two men talked so casually about sex, she thought, and the one in front of her seemed to be the alpha womanizer she had to knock down a couple pegs. Settling her drink down, Freya leaned up on the bar in much the same way Sugar had done, allowing her bosom to press and swell against the surface of the bar as she stretched her neck out, feeling loose strands of chocolate hair fall over her shoulder while she curled a finger at the bartender.
When he would lean in, a bit too close for her tastes, Freya would tell him as best she could in her broken common what she really thought about his comment. “Do women open legs for you all the time when say you that?” She asked, “Sorry, I too much for Rharne man.”
Leaning back, the smirk on her lips was well maintains as she turned to Patrick, her hand resting on his knee. “No pay you, shots are gift. So you please enjoy or I feel bad.”
Just then, Haraji strolled up to her and pressed close to her ear, whispering something before walking back to the woman he's gone to earlier, the two walking off to a room, she assumed.
Damn Haraji...
Though she supposed he was doing the right thing. They would be out on the ocean for some days and it was a known rule that sex between the crew was not going to happen. Ever. Maybe Freya should follow his lead. These were strangers after all, she didn't know them.
But this was a Tavern for those sorts of things and like hell she'd open her legs for any lard. Again, Freya took a couple pulls from the Mead, feeling the tingle of the alcohol in her stomach.
“So Pat treat ladies better than bartender? I believe maybe but words lie. What is saying? Actions better than words?”
word count: 551
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Wendell leaned in when summoned by Freya’s bent finger, why not, he thought, entertain the girl for a spell while he was in between patrons. He wasn’t too sure he quite got her meaning, but then, there hadn’t been too much to the message. Freya was calling him out in his own jungle. Suddenly parched, the tall male decided to pour himself a drink, another shot of whiskey to chase the strange shot that had gone before it, leaving his mouth dry. He watched as Freya turned her attention on Patrick, familiar with the game, divide and conquer.

“What did I tell you, Pat?” The bartender spoke up then, “I ever lose you just stand next to the most beautiful woman in the room, and I’ll find you no trouble.”
Sugar came by and slapped Wendell on his backside. “Not that old line,” she smirked. She had caught the tail-end of Freya’s conversation with Patrick and put the dirty glasses down in the sink before joining in on the game of ‘hound the new guy’. “You want to know the difference between these too, honey? About four inches,” she winked, and pointed at Patrick before wiggling her pinkie finger and making a mocking-sad-face in his direction.

Wendell threw his head back and laughed, disappearing for half a minute to serve another customer. Sugar had followed him and slipped her hand into the back pocket of his trousers to fetch the payment from his last deal, in charge of the books tonight. “You’re three gold short?”
“Gizz us a kiss.”
“Give me three gold!”
“She was hot.”
“I don’t care, stop giving it away for free, stud!”
“Yes, mum,” came Wendell’s quick retort.
“Watch it you,” Sugar pointed before escaping to tend tables again, “or I’ll start telling the girls you’re the smaller one!”
“They won’t believe you!” Wendell called after her, smiled, and took up a rag to start drying some of the clean dishes.

Stacking the glasses away, he leaned across the bar, interrupting Freya and Patrick’s conversation. “Drinks?” His mood seemed not unlike him, but certainly lifted for someone who had just been blown off, twice.
word count: 373
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In the short time he'd started his career here as an entertainer Patrick had already become all too familiar with the jests and jokes, being the new guy to the party literally meant taking ever inch of their banter literally and figuratively every step of the way. Wendell of course was no problem because he knew the man well enough by now, though when it came to the others like Sugar for instance, the bartender still had a long ways to go before he could figure her out. "Aw, what now?!" He exclaimed as she joined the conversation to back up Wendell, a snap of his finger followed by a point commenced as he issued for her to get moving with a wide grin on his face, his cheeks already flushed a vivid pink as he tried to recollect himself from the ambush she'd given. Honestly Patrick didn't even dare question the differences between their length as the matter could easily bother him later on, though he was always confident he could still give Wendell a run for his money all the same.

He felt oddly happier than he usually was, happier than he'd been in a long time really. Usually he'd quietly take the rather insulting jokes, but tonight he handled them with an unusual stride in confidence. When Freya of course insisted that the shots were a gift he returned a heartfelt look once more, her features suddenly a fixation of admiration for him when he proceeded to thank her once again. "Well lass if ya insist, least I can do is enjoy it! You stickin' in town for very long? We've got plenty o' fun stuff t' do ya know!" Wendell seemed to finally join back in after his quick discussion with Sugar, an odd sense of merriment suddenly found within the man as he offered yet more drinks. "Absolutely!" Patrick insisted as a companion seemed to whisper in Freya's ear, shortly after that she seemed to pose a very interesting point in the matter.

"What's that ya say now?" He mused as he looked to her once more with fascination. "That's actually an excellent point! Rather than we tell you this, we can show you just as easily!" He encouraged as he waited for the next round of drinks, oddly enough he felt more "in the mood" with each passing bit somehow. When the drinks were served though he mentally shook it off, didn't allow it to bother him as he made the next shot he gulped quench a sudden thirst he felt. "See Wendell here's a bit o' a hard ass, doesn't know how t' take it slow half the time. I'm the kind o' guy who likes t' know a woman's enjoyin' her self, before I go finishin' anythin' off anyways." He finished with a devious smirk shot to Wendell, well aware that the man was likely going to spout some other tormenting joke his way.
word count: 506
"Freedom is everything."


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[Harlot 'n' Hound] The Drunk and a Pirate

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Another line uttered from the bartender's mouth caused the corner of Freya's to turn up, a small grin on her lips as the woman who'd served her before joined in the conversation. Her explanation of lengths finally cracked open the Biqaj's barriers and a smile lit up her features along with a string of laughter. The banter was quite amusing and, if Freya didn't have a drug deal to finalize in the coming days, she might have committed to the promise of coming here another night or two.
Turning, she listened to Patrick, the flush that colored her cheeks more so from the mead that was warming her system than shyness of embarrassment. Her eyes were pulsing with an energy of their own, it seemed, and the men were fascinated by them. It wasn't unusual for Freya. She was use to the drunk Humans staring at her far longer than they should. But this, this was alluring and amusing. Both men seemed to be feeling the effects of the drug as it was creeping up in their systems. Freya wagered it would be a few bit longer before the high kicked in and they knew something was up.
At least she knew now the drug worked.
Freya continued to watch Patrick, her form turned so that her attention was obviously directed to him rather than the one behind the bar while the hand that was on his knee slowly crept up the length of his thigh. If she was right, the drug would prevent him from hiding a reaction.
“You men love talk of women. So usual.” Freya teased.
In that moment, she lifted the flagon to her lips again, her golden eyes looking to Wendell's and entrapped him with their shift of color. Swirling with liquid color, it was as if red bled into her irises, battling with the golden to take over until there was nothing more than a deep yellow rim around deep, blood red.
She drank until the cup was empty and slid it off to him, smiling. “No more. Enough I have, thank you.”
Licking the mead from her lips, those red eyes shifted to Patrick and she turned once more, closing herself off to only the man beside her, knowing the game she was playing here. If Haraji wanted to talk about his night in the morning, Freya was more than willing to one up him.
Her form slid from the chair beside Patrick and she moved around him, kissing his cheek. “Keep seat for me?” Pulling away slowly, Freya headed toward a section of halls she saw others enter, trying to locate a place to relieve herself. The Flagon was too much to order with nothing on her stomach, and she felt the pleasant grip of tipsiness befall her.
Maybe she should sneak back to the boat..? Pushing a hand through her hair, she continued on.
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Wendell finished with his work and hung back a bit, putting glasses away and watching the two converse, unsure of what they might have been speaking about from the distance that separated them. Every now and then his attention was stolen by someone at the bar or by one of the waitresses hoping to get a re-fill on a round of drinks for the gamblers.

When Sugar returned to the bar, Wendell was more than happy to hand over his apron and let her run things for a while. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked him.
“Nowhere,” he turned around, caught out and unable to escape.
“I need your help here, so unless someone is paying, sit your ass down and start balancing the books for me.”
Wendell rubbed his face and groaned.
“None of that!” She smacked his shoulder. “You are the reason they don’t add up, that means you are the one who has to fix them.”

Wendell sat down and dragged the book over to start going through it and double checking it against the coin she had left under the bar for him to count. Part way through working, Freya had gotten up to go somewhere and Wendell slapped Patrick with the back of his hand, whacking the man in the chest. “What are you doing, you muppet? Go after her! She was all over you, make the sale, man!” He turned around to make sure Sugar wasn’t looking before pressuring Patrick to get off his backside and earn his keep. “Quick, go!”
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While he hadn't fully given much attention to the fact her hand rested at his knee, the slow and steady creep up to his thigh had in fact not gone unnoticed. Patrick felt a wicked stir of arousal within his groin as the feeling of her approach brought tingles all throughout his entire leg. He wanted to hide it, the fact she teased him with her soft and impish touch. Yet he could not and sure enough she would've immediately notice the stir she'd caused, a loss of words suddenly his affliction as Patrick couldn't decide what to say or think. He'd never had anybody hit on him like this, not as strongly as Freya did anyway. Most women liked to play coy or bashful with him, which was what he mainly grew accustomed to; but not Freya. She was different and she proved it alright, and that turned his fixated interest into a desire he had no means of control over.

It was like he needed a drink again but... wasn't really thirsty to begin with. He definitely felt curious about her and when she seemed more interested in him than Wendell, her eyes transitioned into a fiery red hue with golden outlines at their edges. She had to be one of the most intriguing people that he'd ever met, and somehow his excitement met with anticipation of what came next. A kiss with the request to save her seat, for when she might come back later perhaps? Regardless of what she wanted Patrick only nodded with a silent gulp, his mind sent in a whirl as his heart pounded heavily in his chest. He definitely desired her at this rate and hadn't any clue as to what he should do, normally he'd be able to keep a clear head but between the drinks and this light-headed feeling he just lacked the capacity. He'd watched her as she strut away on her own, Wendell's own hand there to knock some sense of encouragement into him before Patrick completely lost it. "Ya think so?!" He checked to make sure and with Wendell insistent on him doing the deed, the new entertainer simply followed.

With a bit of a casual stroll in his step Patrick moseyed his way through the crowd of people at the center of the room, their energy a syncopated pulse that he somehow thrived off of as he passed every individual. Some were already topless and others were getting set for the mood, their energies somehow tied to that of the atmosphere itself as Patrick finally reached across to follow Freya. He was hot now and he could feel his pulses throughout his entire body, a moment of hesitation as he didn't just wish to stumble in on any privacy she sought. Sure enough after he looked around the halls a few times he'd encountered her once more, the vividly colored eyes she carried a beacon for him to follow as he finally closed in on her. He didn't know what to say or what to do, only that his impulses at this point were in control. Therefore upon the moment of encountering her, he drew in real close with the intent to gift her with a well placed kiss on the lips.
word count: 561
"Freedom is everything."


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