Date: 2006-05-22 06:31 am (UTC)
"No."

He took her hand and pulled out his knife. He knew then, knew now she hated blood, so he cut her palm first, a small slice, barely an inch. He mirrored the cut on his hand and then clasped hers tightly in both of his, blood mingling, his free hand holding them together.

His eyes found hers and held them.

"We've share blood with our parents, Katara - now we share it with each other. I'm coming back. But I can't stay here when I can go and make sure you don't get hurt again."
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beliefovermisery

September 2009

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