Your car is sporty. Red. A Solara, I think, but you never put the hood down. It’s the sort of car I can imagine you driving in high school. Your long, dark hair is ruffled by the crisp wind. Maybe your polished nails tap against the acrylic paint of the door. Beside you, an equally beautiful friend. In the back seat, crammed illegally without seatbelts, four friends piled on top of each other. Your same caliber of beauty, because that’s …
Red Like A Blood OathRead More »
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