[Something flares under his ribs, dark and rich, like unsweetened cocoa. He does; he does, and he has had so little that was every truly and only his own, and it is a ludicrous, trifling thing to other gods, but this little place is his, every polished floorboard, every facet of every glass, every breath of each customer, for a little while, wandering through. There's a sense, wispy and elemental, that Malak sees a glimpse of the true face of it, that it is a sanctuary for him too.
That reaction is too deep, too heavy and true for him to share easily. But flirtation is easy, and it covers all manner of sins. His grin goes broad and roguish.]
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That reaction is too deep, too heavy and true for him to share easily. But flirtation is easy, and it covers all manner of sins. His grin goes broad and roguish.]
Glad you liked it.