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“He's stunned by his own certainty that there would always be more of her words, that he could treat them so carelessly. As though there were an inexhaustible supply. He's come so close to being left with nothing; with only his own thoughts to read back.”

“for Cian, Sílbhe and her grandchildren are like a slug of whiskey making his insides burn with the sharp pleasure of human contact. Of being invited in from the cold.”

so lovely

IM BACK AT HOGWARTS LETS GOOO

introspective 🥀🥀