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abnormal psychology

First Kiss




'Take this,' he said, proferring me a small sky blue bottle.

'What is it?'

'The ecstacy of a true love's first kiss.'

Below us, we heard the clatter of a small troop climbing stairs to the landing outside my bedroom. Forgetting his offer, he flipped the top off the bottle and, in one smooth movement, threw its contents down his throat.

As the door splintered, he drew his sword and hurled himself, fearless and invulnerable, towards it. The madness of saints shone about him.

He'd thought he would find out, some day. Thought he would have the time to enquire as to whose ecstacy was in the bottle, whose lips had brushed against heaven.

He still did, we realised as he fell into the melee, his smile beautific and merciless. But we knew better. He would never find out. The time for idle enquiries had passed. None of us were walking away from this, and him least of all.

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