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• Never too old for fairytales • "Stop it" I heard the man growl. "Stay still" His voice was heavily accented, rich and silky but there was something weird about the way he said each word. It was as if he had a different tone for each word. Whoever had taught him English seemed to have a spit personality. "We have to find a priest" he told me suddenly. "Now." "Why?" I cried. "Are you going to throw me a funeral after you murder me?" "No murder" he laughed. "We will marry." "What? Are you kidding me?" I asked incredulously. "No, I am carrying you" he replied with an eye roll. ( BE WARN: This story is laid back chill story created when I was a teenager. ) All Rights Reserved 2018
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