“Please don’t,” she said. His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand. One could enter and leave by proa, but nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. On that basis alone, he had no right to give or accept love.
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