In the midst of our black hearts, the crazy gleams we light; And then believe in. Throwing caution to the wind, Not caring whether we are wrong, Then, only then, we are right! By unknown
He turned then and walked toward the ladder. He could feel her watching him and he hoped that she wouldn't, couldn't let him go - at least not before they talked about it. As painful as he knew talking would be - they needed to get it out in the open. Needed to say what they felt and if it left them forever broken - perhaps then at least Liz could heal. That was when he heard the window sliding open. He stopped and waited, hoping. Had he imagined it?
Don't' we wish Dreamers that she hadn't let him leave?
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