"It's like a makeshift stitch," she tells him, but loses the ability to make words when he puts the glue in the wound. It stings, and she hisses again.
"Bloody fae," she mutters under her breath. Not Eames, but the one who'd tried to kill her. "Who plans these anyway? Who decides what's in this year? It's awful."
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"Bloody fae," she mutters under her breath. Not Eames, but the one who'd tried to kill her. "Who plans these anyway? Who decides what's in this year? It's awful."