He was staring off into the darkness, again, as if he didn't want me to see what was in his eyes. True, a new mistress now I chase, he said. She just didn't seem to understand. Even if it drags our tortured Richard down with us? Yes, I said.
I couldn't help it. Damian had been against the wall for so long-fifteen, thirty seconds-that I thought the fight might be over, that Richard might have actually kicked some sense into him; I was wrong. One moment of good sex didn't take away centuries of need. No, no, your face goes all soft when you talk about him.
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