"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Ethan yanked off her shirt, reached around for the clasp of her bra and was about to finish his fumbling with the waist of her skirt.

Be a gentleman. Sheís missing fingers, lend a hand.

He tried his best to accommodate her and rip off his shirt, but the process knocked his glasses off so that they dangled from one ear. He took a moment to replace them back to their normal position so that he could see.

Does it feel like the room is spinning? WaitÖthere is no room, weíre outside. Iím not good atÖ.thinking right now.

She stopped and said something he didnít understand. It didnít matter what she said, but it did sound hot.

Survival of the fittest. Sure. That fucker wants to take away everything from us. Everything you ever knew. But he canít take this from me. How much fun this is, how she tastes, sheís so pretty. Itís mine. So fuck that guy. Actually, Iíll fuck her instead. FeoÖ..itís a weird name, but I like it. I like her. I really like her.

What little light there was painted her in an array of warm colors. The worry and tension he felt during the day were replaced with the touch of her skin and his pain mingled with longing. Underneath him the bruises from the explosion at the sawmill ached against his back, but he didnít care. The sharpness of every feeling, good and bad, was a reminder that he had made it this far. A single shadow flickered and writhed against the trees until the fire burned through its fuel.
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What Are Little Girls Made Of? · The Mountain