” They stared at each other through a pause, and both faces were flushed and obstinate. ruin you. I love your very breath. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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