"... And how am I supposed to stop them?" *stammered* "When I can't even protect myself...
I don't have money or power or a fancy family. I've got nothing!"
"Well, you have me. That's not much, but it's something." *buried his face in his lover's cold leather jacket*
"No, not much. Only everything." *held on to him tightly*
(Beautitudes chapter 4 by Gaedhal, 2003)
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