”Aa-Acheing chest, h-handful of teeth- doesn't this [breathe] bring back memories?”
[Jet's hair is flattened, soaking wet, his shirt is draped over his shoulders and in his bleeding palms he holds four unmistakable little incisors.]
“Geeze Soul- f-file these things down at all? D-Didn't think souls needed to be crushed like rocks.”
[You kiss anyone
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