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[personal profile] kitchen_kink
My perspective on the room shifts from vertical to spinning, then horizontal, in the space of a second. My face is to the floor, again, and he’s twisting my arm behind me. I tap out, roll up to face him.

His eyes are less weapons than tools of disarmament. The cool blue is friendly and inviting as an August swimming pool. But that diving board’s higher than you think.

“Go again.”

He’s always faster, and always smiling – that infuriating smile! – and I’m down, breathing hard, for more than one reason.

It would be worth it to beat him just once.
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Oh look, it's Dietrich

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