The first thing Sam sees opening her eyes at noon - after listening to loud music all night, ignoring Ryan’s desperate pleas- are amused hazel eyes she recognizes from one of the few pictures in Ryan’s flat.
“You’re not a chicken, are you?” the man asks.
“What?” Sam mumbles, trying to clear her sleep-tangled brain.
“Or a duck, they’re just as
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Lyle makes a good mum, I'm sure.;)
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