The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Written on My Skin

Jun
24

 

Dazai squirmed a little under the cool strokes of Chuuya’s brush over his back, only to get a hand firmly planted between his shoulder blades.

“Hold still,” Chuuya warned in a low voice. “You’ll make me smear the ink.”

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