“I love you, Lars,” she whispered. “I always have.”
Words, whispered with shaky voice.
Words, almost drowning in the roaring sea of thunder.
Words, painfully proven by the tight wetness that surrounded me.
Words.
The truest words.
Haunting, cursed words they were, but nonetheless, I knew them to be true.
I always have.
My name is Lars. Lars Winter.
Where …
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