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we must be killers (children of the wild ones)



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"This ship," he declares firmly, "is a heap of junk."

"You're a heap of junk," she retorts, hip-checking him on the way out.

There is refuge even here, in their little games. He can't remember precisely when it started. It crept up on him like salvation, like forgiveness, like dawn seeping through.



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https://ficbook.net/readfic/6009603Clair-de-LuneЗакончен
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