[She doesn't put her laugh into writing, but it exists all the same, reeling and disjointed and Alecto can probably sense it.] It's mutual, I assure you.
I love you. Thank you for all that you helped me to see. I hate you for every piece of yourself you put inside me, everything I have to feel.
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I love you. Thank you for all that you helped me to see. I hate you for every piece of yourself you put inside me, everything I have to feel.
What are we to do?