The sound of his deep, rumbling laughter only spurred her, and she growled, her weak legs buckling underneath her. All she could see was bright white rage, and she crawled forward to straddle him. (Flashes of that abandoned house and the sheets they'd lain on the floor burned her retinas.) But it was different now, and all she wanted was to be close enough to press her trembling fingers against his healing skin and hurt him again.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 06:00 am (UTC)Just like he hurt her.