There is a Sam outside in the moonlight, enjoying the very last tendrils of the summer's warmth to ... well. Who knows. His face is utterly unreadable, but he's out by the lake, sitting on a particularly large rock on the lakeside with his sword (the one that was a gift from Atton, not his true sword, lost beyond his door) balanced delicately
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"Evening, Olga."
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"Sam."
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"How's tricks?"
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"Hey, Lucifer," she says quietly, tilting her head a little to watch his face.
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"Hi, Beautiful."
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"Your thoughts are lost?" She asks, reaching out to tangle her fingers with his - but slowly, a little hesitantly, giving him room to step away if he doesn't want the contact.
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"I'd tell you if I knew, Beautiful."
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