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“You are my blood mate,” he says simply, finding my hand and squeezing it with his own. “I would die for you.” Gah! A little warning before the touching would be nice. Mainly so I can resist the overwhelming urge to morph into a jiggly pile of Jell-O, thank you very much. “You’d … die… for me?”” I manage to choke out. I’ve got to lighten the mood here. “Technically aren’t you already dead?” — Mari Mancusi
You are my blood mate,” he says simply, finding my hand and squeezing it with his own. “I would die for you.”
Gah! A little warning before the touching would be nice. Mainly so I can resist the overwhelming urge to morph into a jiggly pile of Jell-O, thank you very much.
“You’d … die… for me?”” I manage to choke out. I’ve got to lighten the mood here. “Technically aren’t you already dead?