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The anchor of your sorrow


He remained, constant and silent as her own shadow. He knew the truth. She didn't need him, but he needed her. He needed to hear the pad of her feet in the sand, needed to see the amber flash of her hair as it caught the sun. He wanted to tug her to him, to feel the warmth of her skin, to feel the rhythm of her heart as it echoed the beat of his own.

An echo. That's all she was. An impossible echo, and now her heart beat a rhythm of vengeance. She did not love him. She couldn't remember how.

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