A/N: This is me losing my drabble virginity, so be gentle. Hi, by the way. ONE OF After the violence they had found solace in each other’s touch. Not in a mammalian reproductive fashion, as that was too base yet to integrate, and neither was a true mammal. But in the clasping together of their respective shells. Solace because it was a prerequisite of her new form, and one he had sought for a score and a hundred years. Beneath the impertinence and peroxide. Solace: one down. 256 to go. The next one she must learn to subdue attacked upon recalling she wouldn’t live but for her death. It sounded like fish lungs. That was it, guilt.
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