Later that evening, as they dined at the Thuringia Gardens in Grantville, Marcus watched as the girl ate with a gusto that reminded him of a horse with a feed bag. It was focused, contained, and nothing was wasted.
Marcus found himself staring, not eating his dinner, fascinated by the creature across from him. He liked everything about her. The way she moved. The way she chewed. The way she held her fork. Her shy smile and the dimple it created. The arched eyebrows, and the ability for them to move independently. First one, then . . .
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- The Grantville Gazette Staff