"You speak so poetically. You're going to have to write me letters," Herbert declares, pressing his hand more firmly against Solin's back. "Every day, sheets and sheets, telling me how pretty I am. And I will save them all and read them over and over again until the pages fall apart.
Will you let me visit you? You must. I'm going to, you don't have a choice."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-03-13 04:02 am (UTC)Will you let me visit you? You must. I'm going to, you don't have a choice."