It was easier to take him in, faster, harder. I took my hand away and knelt beside his body, my hands in my lap. I held him, and the tears started down my face, hard and hot, and choking. I don't read bedtime stories to my milkshake.
To someone who hadn't seen him in half a year, the changes must have been even more impressive. Nathaniel, Bert said. If he'd just sat, I could have handled it, but of course he didn't. Scent brings memory stronger than any other sense, and I was suddenly drowning in the feel of Byron's body,
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