She bent over his hands, kissing them in hope, mingling On his hands were tears and grief, completely exhausting him So much so that he pushed her head to the edge of the bed with his hand Solid and noticeable violence, and before the red of his eyes did not find Refusing to surrender." Things are not always as we see them, even behind doors The ornate scene is bloody tragedies, and behind the smiling faces Broken hearts and broken hearts. Life lies in Details, and no one knows the paths better than their owners. And I can't tell the ship from its mice!
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