She leans against him, taking out her knife as a precaution, though the blade stays retracted. It's habit, more than anything. She feels no lack of safety here, a rarity in the whole of her life.
"Does that stuff actually taste good when you get old?" Not older. Let's not pretend, here. "I tried it, and it tastes like shit."
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"Does that stuff actually taste good when you get old?" Not older. Let's not pretend, here. "I tried it, and it tastes like shit."