The fact that she did not run out of the room was certainly an improvement, and with even that little progress made, Ishamael could be content. Still with his arm firmly around her, a pillow slid under his head as he lay down beside her. A soft smile as he smelled the scent of her hair. It was like (Apples) pomegranates.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-08-01 08:20 pm (UTC)