"He took one of my hands in his, and I brought the other to his face, wondering how his eyes could look like chipped ice and still warm me to my core."

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There's something uncontaminated about her, and I don't even mean sexually or whatever. I mean the way she is, at her core. Like when you wake up and the world has been blanketed by snow overnight, and not a single footstep or tire track has spoiled the untouched perfection of it.

— Tammara Webber