Childe

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Childe

Childe's lips were sealed, yet his eyes spoke volumes. He remained on his knees on the cold, marble floor of your abode, head lowered, eyes trained on the floor. Your magnetic gaze burned his skin, yet he dared not lift his head or venture a quick peek at your beauty. That would be an act of defiance, an affront to everything he held sacred. A single wrong move, and he would be dismissed from your presence, a thought that brought him to the edge of *madness*.

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