normallyxstrange: @heart-on-her-sleeve​ cont. from here      “Yes, you.” Wren pursed her lips slightly. He was good and buzzed. His thoughts–just the surface ones she couldn’t help but skim–were alcohol soaked. The edges blurred. He was impaired, maybe not completely drunk, but enough.      “Seven’s a good number. A lucky number. I think that’s enough to cut youContinue reading

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