Thought
“This is a sick joke.”
Revel raises a dark eyebrow behind a fringe of honey brown hair. Hair slips his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a piece of square paper between his fingers. Eyeing it carefully, I don’t take it right away when he hands it to me, knowing this can’t be real. However, when I grasp it between my fingertips, it feels completely real.
Folding it open, I see it’s a handwritten invitation. It doesn’t look particularly formal, however, the moment I see who addressed this to me, all the air in my lungs vanishes.
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