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Lira stood there, silhouetted in the soft glow of the corridor lights. Her robe clung gently to her petite form, damp and still wet from a recent bath. Silver strands of her hair clung to her neck and cheeks, Her eyes, those curious, captivating light blue eyes, studied him.
"You know," Samuel responded softly, "it would be nice if you knocked before barging into someone else’s room."
His fingers tightened around the red fruit from the Tree of Longevity. Its sur ...
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