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Old 11-29-2013, 01:04 PM   #1
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Rose Part 6.

Hi ladies. Back again. Thank you again for your feedback and continued interest. Here's the next part of Rose. I hope you like it. There's a little swearing here and there. (thought I might mention that in case you're offended. ) Ok to continue>>> Oh, and whilst I think on it, please let me know if you like the way I write. I know I tend to write differently to most people. I'd be interested in any opinions. It doesn't matter if it's negative or not. We learn from our mistakes.

Last bit from last bit:

“So, has he changed? Does he look any different?”

“Yes.” I stated. “He has changed”. He’s got better.

“How old is he now; twenty six, twenty seven?”

“Twenty nine; he’s twenty nine”. We fell into silence and then I said; “He’s broader then he used to be, hair’s grown as well, had it tied back in a pony tail last night”.

“A pony tail, you say”. And I’m sure my mother slid into one of her little fantasies because she went all quiet for a moment. She spoke again. “What’s he been up to then, whilst he’s been away?”

“This and that”.

“And that girl; that girl he went off with?”

I felt an inward shudder at the thought of the bitch harpy but then looked on the bright side; she hadn’t come back with him had she and I felt smug. “He didn’t say and I didn’t ask”.

“Why not?”

“I’m not gonna ask where his wife is, am I?”

“I would’ve done. So he didn’t mention her then?”

“…Only to say that she hadn’t come back with him”.

“Maybe they’ve split up”. At mother’s words my heart took a leap although I knew that was unkind. “I thought they’d made a go of it”. She added.

“I’m going to work”.

Next bit>>>

“Rose!” I heard my name from some distance away and turned to see who was calling me. And there he was; standing across the street dressed in faded blue jeans, a hole at the knee, black shirt that accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, hair free of its constraints. It looked longer somehow but then I hadn’t really seen it properly since he’d come back.

Indeed, I hadn’t seen him or his hair since the night he’d walked me home. He’d walked me as far our porch but wouldn’t come in. He’d make a mess on the carpet he’d said; what with his wet feet and all. He’d made a big thing out of that; his wet feet and all. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was being sarcastic seeing as it’d been my fault that his feet were wet. I’d giggled and he’d scowled at me but in a playful manner. “Are you sure?” I’d asked and he’d repeated himself.

“No,” He’d said. “I won’t come in. I wouldn’t want your ma chasin’ me down the street”.

Well, I’m sure she’d like to. Instead I’d said, “Ok then. I feel kind of guilty though, letting you go home like that”.

“No problem there, Rosie. I’ve been in worse states then this”.


So anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I’d heard my name being called and turned to find him looking at me. He was across the road a ways and when our eyes met, he waved at me to join him which I did. Of course, my heart had leapt in my chest at the sight of him. Why, he looked even better than ever in the daylight. In the shadows of the night, I hadn’t really seen just how broad his shoulders had become, how thick and unruly his hair, the fine breadth to his chest and of course those lovely thighs; strong and no doubt very capable, if you get my drift.

“Rosie”. He’d said opening his arms and taking me inside them to press me against his chest. “And it’s been way too long”.

“It’s only been a week”. I said and instantly regretted it as he’d know then that I’d been counting the days since our last meeting.

“Aye, but it feels like a month. So come on,” He let me go, holding me at arms length and subjecting me to his intense blue gaze. “Let a man look at you. You’re lookin’ fine, Rosie, very fine”.

“You do too”. Kill me now.

“So, where you headed?” He let me go and I felt a coolness where just now the heat of his fingers had been.

“Just off to meet up with Kay”.


“You remember Kay?”

“Of course; how is she?”

“She’s good”.

“What you doin’ tonight?”

What am I doing tonight? Oh my! Instead, (and quite indifferently), “Oh, Kay and I will be going for a drink with the others, I guess; why?”

“So, you goin’ to the pub then?”

“Yeah, we usually do on a Friday night”.

“Great. I’ll probably see you there”.


Now, every Friday a load of us converge on this little out of the way place called The Angel. It’s quaint. It’s kind of dark inside but it’s very, very cosy.
There’s always a big group of us. Anyway, The Angel has become the beginning of our weekend ritual. We meet up there after work; unwind there after a busy week. It's a place where everyone soon gets to know everyone else and it's nice. The music is good. They have live music for a couple of hours each Friday. All the groups are local and it always has a good atmosphere.

We have our own little area of the pub too; a nice little nook in one corner. I can see the door and the bar area from where I sit so I can be as nosy as I like, watching the people coming and going. Anyway, that night Kay and I sat ourselves down in our usual places, drinks in front of us on the table and made ourselves comfy.

For the first hour I found my eyeballs wandering to the doors, willing him to come through them but he didn’t. In the end I’d grown arsy and sulky and Kay grew annoyed with me but then quite suddenly, there he was; The Prodigal Son returned. He’d come through the large, wooden doors to sip of the local trough.

There were a load of us seated round two small tables. Me and Kay were parked somewhere in between all our friends on a long seat covered in some kind of tweedy stuff that had seen better days. It was a bit stained and threadbare and had obviously experienced many a long hour crushed by heavy buttocks. We were surrounded by people that we’d known for years and though I’d always felt that someone was missing, that night the feeling wasn’t there. That night our group was complete.


Jack, strolled over. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and my eyes traveled there. I drew in a breath as I focused and had to force my gaze back up to his face. He was grinning. He was wearing his hair tied back again and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he took us all in. Both my heart and my ovaries knew instant happiness for I’d missed him so much. I’d missed that smile, that gorgeous beguiling smile that always lit up the whole room.

For me, he had a wink. And oh, how it made my insides heat up; knowing that I was kind of special because he’d winked at me and no one else. Yes, I was desperate but he didn’t know that. So, Keiron, unnoticed by myself at first, brought up the rear and whilst Jack stood there deciding where to park his fine arse, Keiron made us all budge up one so he could sit himself down on the seat where me and Kay were parked.

Jack asked him what he was drinking and if anyone else wanted a jar whilst he was up at the bar. I shook my head and smiled at him whilst pointing to my rum. “Why doncha come help me?” He asked as I raised my glass to my lips. I nodded and stood, squeezing past all the knees, and felt very pleased with myself until I realized that he probably only asked me to help him because everyone was engaged in conversation.

He waited until I was free of legs and feet and we walked up to the bar together to stand behind the others queuing there. He didn’t say anything until we reached the counter and then he merely looked at me. “What?” I asked.

In return he smiled and slid his arm around my shoulder. He gave my hair a quick kiss and then answered my question with one of his own. “I didn’t know you came here”.

“Every week”.

“Every week?”


“Well, it looks like I’ll hafta make this my local then”.

I nodded, crushing my rampant excitement. “Yeah that you will”. I was trying to act like I wasn’t really bothered even though my stomach was leaping around my rib cage. I was determined to remain cool and come across as not really interested but you’re wondering why aren’t you? Well, I was afraid see. I loved him so much that I didn’t want to show my true feelings for him in case he rejected me. I had no intention of repeating the hurtful emotions that I’d felt before. If he’d come back just to find someone else yet again, I’d at least have him leave with my pride intact. I wouldn’t want him know the destruction he’d leave in his wake for yet a second time.

“Is it always this busy?” He asked.

“Yup; ‘fraid so”. I didn’t mind though. It meant I could be with him a bit longer. So we stood together, watching the bar staff trying to serve everyone and eventually it was our turn. Jack put in his order and I waited to see if he’d remember my favourite drink. He ordered a double rum and black for me. I was impressed. It seemed that he hadn’t forgotten.

He turned to look at me and smiled as he held out his cash to pay. “You do still drink rum and black, doncha?” I nodded, suitably smug. “Good”. He said, winking at me again and causing my ovaries to do a little dance.

And I was just about to bask in his attention when some big guy took a sideways step, treading right on my foot; his full weight. If my toes had a mouth, they’d have screamed and sworn. Instead I yelped. The man who’d stepped on me turned and apologized. I mumbled something about it being ok even though it wasn’t. When I looked at Jack I saw that his face had grown dark. His eyes were piercing and no longer blue but an angry stormy grey. I knew that he was about to say something so I put my hand on his arm and shook my head. “It was an accident”. I said. “It’s ok”.

The big guy turned to look at Jack. “Sorry, mate”. He said. “I didn’t mean to tread on yer girlfriend”.

“I’m not his…” I began to say but Jack was quick to move in for a reply. The grey storm vanished, replaced by summer blue.

“That’s ok, mate”. He said to the big guy. “No worries”. And as if to emphasize his point, he leaned across and kissed me just below my earring. It was just a peck, just a tiny kiss but my ovaries exploded all the same.

“What was that for?” I asked as steadily as I could.

“A little pleasure,” He said. “…For a little pain; got to balance things”. He winked again, turning away from me and paying for the drinks.


I was limping by the time we got back to the others. My toes were throbbing like something out of a cartoon. Jack looked at me and scowled. “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

“Not really”. I lied. “Well, just a bit. But he didn’t mean it”.

“And him about nine feet tall and just as wide”.

“It doesn’t matter”.

“I’ve a good mind to go over there and punch him on the nose”.

“And I’m gonna be punchin’ you on the nose if you don’t gimme that ale. A man could die of thirst sat here waitin’ for you to stop bummin’ your lips and hand me that drink”. It was Keiron and he looked very comfy in between Kay and another of our girlfriends.

“Och, shut your mitherin’, Keiron; sittin’ there on your fat arse, lookin’ like a trollop after a cheap drink!” Jack handed his friend the ale and then looked back at me. “And that big shite at the bar should have been more careful. Budge up everyone, let Rosie here sit down; some big oaf just trod on her”.

I didn’t want people making a fuss of me so I pretended that I was fine but Jack saw through me and made me sit down anyway. Course, once seated I wondered where Jack would sit but to my intense delight, he made everyone budge up two spaces so that he could sit down next to me and the pain in my foot was forgotten, replaced by great contentment.


He took a swig of his ale and then looked at me. I watched in silent desire as he used the tip of his tongue to wipe the froth from his beer off his upper lip. The smile broadened. He spoke. “You ok?”

“Yeah”. I reached for my drink fully aware that he was staring at me.


“Yeah, I’m fine”.

He looked away then, over to the bar, to stare at the back of the man who’d stepped on me. I heard him mutter three words. “Stupid fucking oaf”. Of course, those soft words, though heard by no one else made me feel kind of important; like he cared that someone had hurt me. It made me feel good inside.

When I returned my drink to the table and sat back, I noticed that he’d slid his arm across the top of the seat behind me. Once comfy he’d casually slipped it around my shoulder. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t make any comment or let him see that I’d noticed what he’d done. I simply enjoyed the feel of being tucked up against him. He didn’t pull me in; didn’t make it obvious that he was holding me. His arm was just there; resting gently on me.

For most of the night he was in conversation with just about everyone except me. He’d hardly spent any time talking to me at all and yet I didn’t feel left out. Instead I felt warm and safe as I sat here quietly listening to everyone whilst I basked in his nearness and the weight of his arm on my shoulder.

I noticed all his movements, all his actions, all his inflections and all his mannerisms. I took everything in. It was like I was recording him in my brain for examination later; later when I was alone, later when I had time to lie awake and replay his voice like a tape recording.

I hoped that we’d walk home together and that no one would offer us a lift. I wanted to relive the night he came back, well, all of it except for the stream incident. I wanted the intimacy of it; the togetherness shared under the night sky. Och, and yes, I knew that should we walk home together we wouldn’t be stopping for a heated snog, there’d be no neck sucking under the street lamps and there certainly wouldn’t be any groping; at least not on his part. Me, I was much more open to possibilities.

Anyway, the night wore on. He was animated, talking to anyone who’d listen. A lot of them hadn’t seen him since he came back and I could tell he was enjoying his reunion. Beside him, I was painfully receptive to his scent, fully conscious of his nearness; the feel of his thigh pressing up against mine, his heat warming my shoulder; the way his fingers drew circles on my upper arm.

Every now and again he’d lean forward in his seat to talk to someone and I found myself snatching glances at his strong back and broad shoulders; how his shirt disappeared into the back of his jeans; the belt there. How his shoulder length hair moved when he did and that ear ring; how it glinted in the lights. He had a smile for everyone, giving all of them his big, trade mark grin.

I saw the laughter in his eyes, and his smile, you know; it got me every time, whether it was for me or not. After he’d finished talking, he’d sit back again and resume his position, sliding his arm back around my shoulder and giving me a little squeeze. He’d cast me a glance and wink. One time he reached for my wrist and turned it over. He examined it for a few moments, raised it to his nose and then spoke. “Hmm,” He said.


“I like the scent you have on there”.

“Thank you”. I wondered if he was going ask me what it was but he didn’t.

Instead: “Now, I’m thinking; Is this the same scent as the one she has at her neck?” and he raised his steady, blue gaze to mine. I didn’t say anything; just stared at his mouth and then his eyes. “And, I’m also thinkin’ that I might just check it out”. He leaned into me, nuzzled at my neck whilst I held my breath, brushed his warm lips across my skin and then surfaced again. “Yup; it’s the same”.

“You’re mad”. I said as flatly as I could. “Do you know that?” It was all I could manage.


And so things went back to the way they were before he left; he rekindled his friendship with my brother, began calling on him, spending time at our house, eating mother’s cooking and taking up man-type conversations with father. For me, he had winks and grins and everyday conversations. I wanted to think that there was something growing between us but every time I did, I chased the thought away. I didn’t want to find out the hard way that I was wrong.

Of course, he ended up joining us at the pub nearly all the time, not that I was complaining though I did wonder what had happened to Saint Rebecca as she still hadn’t put in an appearance but then one Friday evening, when Jack was up at the bar, Keiron let it slip that Jack and Her Regal Self had split up. Split up.

I had an idea that maybe they had but until I’d actually heard those words spoken out loud, I’d refused to believe it, refused to give myself any hope. So as soon as Keiron had said that sentence, as soon as it was out and inside my head, my heart had palpitated in my chest and I’d wanted to scream. I grew full of excitement, brimmed over with anticipation. I also felt a little faint.

My legs twitched. My feet grew restless and I knew the need to jump up out of my seat, to applaud and slap my own chest and dance. I needed to celebrate; to hold a party, to revel in my new found good cheer. I knew the need to fall on my knees and give thanks.

However, I also knew that it wouldn’t be particularly sensitive of me to celebrate the break down of another’s marriage. So, instead, I held it all in; sat quietly, pretended not to be pleased, pretended to be sad and sympathetic whilst expertly extracting more information from Keiron without his realizing it.

Apparently Saint Rebecca had had an affair. Yup; an affair. What the fuck? Why on God’s good earth would she want to do that? Now why, I asked myself as my eyes traveled across to the bar to locate Jack’s fine, broad back, would a body prefer to ride a bicycle when it had a Mercedes parked in its drive? It didn’t make sense to me; didn’t make sense to me at all. “So what happened then?” I heard my voice ask.

Keiron shrugged. “Like I said; Rebecca met someone else. When Jack went out the front door, he came in the back. What made it worse was that Jack knew him”.

“Knew him?”

“Yup; lived next door to ‘em. The other guy worked nights and when Jack went off to work in the mornin’s, the other guy’d be comin’ home. Used to say hello every mornin’. Didn’t know he was goin’ in to pork his wife whilst he was out of the house. Bad set up; real bad”.

“So, lemme get this right". I said. "Jack would leave the house to go to work. His next door neighbour would be coming home at the same time that Jack left. They’d exchanged pleasantries then, he’d wait until Jack was out of sight and go service Open All Hours Rebecca?”

“That’s about the size of it”.

My heart went out to the man standing at the bar. “Poor Jack. How terrible. How did he find out?”

“Found letters or rather imprints of letters stuffed behind the headboard in the bedroom. Apparently she’d been sending the guy notes and hiding the note pad, only it fell out one day and Jack noticed the indentations of someone’s writin’. That’s when he had the sense to run a pencil over the script. It was all about when she was gonna leave him and how she was gonna do it. Good for Jack that he got in first”.

“What an absolute bitch!!” How could she do that to him?! And I couldn’t think of any reason why the stupid cow would choose someone else over Jack. I mean, I knew him. He was kind and thoughtful. He was funny and always cheerful; never appeared to have any negativity or violence about him at all, (unless you counted his protective streak in which he had no choice but stand up for what he thought to be right).

I found myself disgusted for Jack, insulted if you like. I snorted loudly, angry at her, furious that she should reject and hurt such a fine man as Jack and I couldn’t keep the venom out of my voice when I spoke. “Stupid cow, what; wasn’t he man enough for her? The stupid whore needed someone else?”


“And Jack; is he ok?”

“He will be. It happened quite a while ago”.

“How long?” I was interested see. I needed to know that if Jack and I formed a relationship, it wouldn’t be on the rebound from Rebecca The Betrayer.

Keiron shrugged. “Och, what does it matter? And anyways, why are you so interested?”

I looked away from him and wiped at an invisible speck on my skirt, forcing my words to sound indifferent. “I’m not”. I said. “I’m just making conversation, that’s all”.

“Is that what you call it?” When I looked at Keiron, he wasn’t looking at me but somewhere across the room. He didn’t believe me. I could tell.

“Yes, of course. What else?”

Keiron turned to me then; stared intensely into my eyes for a good few seconds during which I felt myself being stripped naked and I didn’t like it. I had to break the contact. He was reading me. I was sure that he was reading me. I spoke. “How’s Jason?” I said. “I haven’t seen him in a while”.
I’d changed the conversation.

And Keiron, being a man, lost his train of thought to answer my question. My face was saved; for now at least.


So, Christmas came along. The pub had been decked with mistletoe and all the usual cheap but cheerful decorations. Everyone was happy. We were all free from work for a few days and getting drunk seemed like a good idea. Jack, standing at the bar, turned and grinned across at me where I sat at our usual table. He held up his glass to inquire if I wanted a refill and I nodded.

So he gestured with his head that I go join him. He wanted me to help him carry the drinks back to the table. He always seemed to ask me to help him and no one else. I wasn’t sure why but I didn’t mind. It gave me the chance to be near him.

I made my way over to him and when I got there he automatically slid his arm around my shoulder and gave me a tight hug. “You feel good there, Rosie”. He always had those words for me. I’d heard them a hundred times since he’d returned yet still didn’t tire of them.

As he was grinning down at me some turkey shoved a branch of mistletoe above us and I didn’t know what to do. Well I did. I wanted to snog his face clean off but I knew that any kiss he had for me would be a chaste kiss and not a tonsil tickler and me, well, I didn’t want to show myself up by ingesting him in front of everyone when all he’d be expecting was a quick brushing of the lips.

Jack looked up at the mistletoe. I didn’t. Instead I examined his chest whilst my heart pounded in mine. The barman put our drinks on the bar and I quickly reached out to pick a couple up but Jack just took them off of me again and set them back on the bar. I had to meet his blue gaze. “Right,” He said.


“A kiss, methinks”.

“A kiss?” So I am special to him aren’t?

“Yup” He was grinning so I narrowed my eyes at him and pretended to be bored. In response his grin widened. “Look,” he said then. “I intend collectin’ as many fine kisses from pretty women as I can tonight and I don’t want you to be feelin’ left out by not gettin’ one so pucker up”.

My heart sank; so much for feeling special. Defeated, I let him haul me in against his chest. His mouth was an inch away from mine. I could feel his breath warm on my face, a faint whiskeyness there. And I wanted his kiss so very badly; ached for it so much that it hurt but I knew he was simply flirting with me; just as he’d be flirting with every other woman in the building. I’d wanted to be The Special One but clearly I wasn’t.

Our lips met. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It wasn’t exactly the kind of kiss he’d give his grannie either but nor was it a lovers kiss. He let me go and grinned, reaching over for the drinks. “Ok,” He said. “I’m ready for all the others now”.

I was disgusted; deeply disgusted. Oh, not with him but with myself for daring to believe that it’d only be me he’d want to kiss. How pathetic was that. And we didn’t even get back to our crowd before he was pausing to gum-suck some slapper in a white dress.

Then, when we reached our table I turned to say something to him only to find him wrapping his fine lips round yet another whore tart. I was furious. I slammed the drinks down on the table, spilling most of them and not giving a shite. Fuck him. Fuck him and fry his testicles.

Without really caring who I trod on, I stomped my way between all the legs seated there and sat down heavily on the crappy, tweedy bench. There were a few curses as I trod on toes and bashed against shins but I didn’t care. “Fark! You trod on my foot! What’s up with you?” Jason asked whilst vigorously rubbing at his big toe.

“Nothing; why, should there be?” I was arsey and I didn’t care who knew it.

Beside Jason, Keiron made his presence known. “Oy; Jack! Put that girl down an’ gimme’ me drink, fuck’s sake”. At his words I glanced across and watched as The Rat Bastard Jack unglued his lips from the face of the slut he was snogging and joined us at the table. Keiron spoke again. “Why is it he can never just go to the bar and come back without stoppin’ to run his mouth off or suck somebody’s face off?”

“You jealous there, Keiron?” Jack had finally come to join us. Me, I wouldn’t look at him though I did catch sight of the very smug grin upon his shitty, rat bastard face. He continued. “Cos y’know, if y’ are I can always stretch across this table and give you a kiss you’ll never forget”. He was good at that, was Jack. Good at teasing.

Keiron snorted. “Think I’d wanna kiss your ugly fucking face? I’d rather kiss a dung beetle”.

“Suit yourself. Have I kissed you yet?” Jack was grinning at another girl who’d come to join us. And I hated him. Right then I hated every inch of him.

On the other side of me, Kay turned her head towards me. “Ignore it”. She said sensing my hurt. “He’s just letting go”.

“Letting go of what? And don’t make excuses for him. He’s not worth it”.

“I’m not making excuses. He’s been through a tough time with Rebecca. Leave him be. He needs to do this”.

I snorted and sulked some more. Fuck him. I hated him.

Ok, that's it for now. Part 7 shortly. Please do let me know what you think. I'm writing a book right now. It's the same format, the same 'first person' view. I'd like to know if it flows easily enough for you or, if you need to re-read any sentences that look wrong.

Ok, thanking you in advance.


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Old 11-29-2013, 02:26 PM   #2
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Let the flirting games begin!

It's definitely a pleasant format to read, and clear who says what and everything.

Originally Posted by GraceRyan View Post
And if U2 EVER did Hawkmoon live....and the version from the Lovetown Tour, my uterus would leave my body and fling itself at Bono - for realz.
Don't worry baby, it's gonna be all right. Uncertainty can be a guiding light...
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Old 11-29-2013, 11:50 PM   #3
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You're good. Do more.
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Old 11-30-2013, 05:45 AM   #4
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Super fun. Rose has a nice strong voice and her POV is very believable. More!
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Old 12-03-2013, 08:16 AM   #5
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YDW, if you remember me, you will remember that I absolutely love your writing style. Your characters come to life on the page (screen) with your desscriptions and dialog. Rose is great ... I really was in to Midnight (please continue), but Diaries is my all time favorite. Would so love to read that again. Just keep writing for us ... pretty please.
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Old 12-14-2013, 07:08 AM   #6
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Soooo about that next chapter.....
Originally Posted by GraceRyan View Post
And if U2 EVER did Hawkmoon live....and the version from the Lovetown Tour, my uterus would leave my body and fling itself at Bono - for realz.
Don't worry baby, it's gonna be all right. Uncertainty can be a guiding light...
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Old 12-14-2013, 01:06 PM   #7
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*In true Macphisto voice*; Patience my dear, gg. Patience....
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Old 12-14-2013, 01:47 PM   #8
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Look at me being virtuous!
Originally Posted by GraceRyan View Post
And if U2 EVER did Hawkmoon live....and the version from the Lovetown Tour, my uterus would leave my body and fling itself at Bono - for realz.
Don't worry baby, it's gonna be all right. Uncertainty can be a guiding light...
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Old 12-15-2013, 08:55 AM   #9
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I love the details and the characterizations. It's very easy to read and I love the 'push and pull' going on just below the surface between the two characters. What is that called? Subtext? Can't wait to read more.

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