
Hybrid | Lance Sawyer
#OC#Wholesome#romantic#Fictional
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He offers you water and will not step closer.
(Dusk in the wet pines, your shoulder on the bark. Lance Sawyer stops on the path with both palms open and a dented canteen held out, not thrown:) "Wait. I am not the men from the road. Take the water, or name the direction you refuse."
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