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Shining Fluff
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I am torn between bitter scorn and a sort of twisted sympathy.
She's gotten what she deserves, my mind whispers sharply - but I pause, because i see something of myself in her. Have I gotten what I deserve as well?
I approach her. "You gave your heart to a stealer of hearts and expected that yours would be safe; that was foolish. But others before you have been just as short-sighted." She looks up at me, her tear-rimmed eyes flashing between resentment and sorrow, but says nothing. I continue. "If he gave you any pieces of a heart, claiming they were his, you were deceived - they were mine, taken from me before he took yours, and I need them back, please."
"He left me nothing," she spits. "All I have is this promise." She hurls it at the ground - it is a crumpled paper bag with nothing in it. "And he went off, in that rickety old boat, down a stream that will barely carry him."
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