"What we control," Juliette said, "is our actions once fate puts us there."
My life is too tight, he wanted to say. My skin is too tight. The walls are too tight.
Even in the darkness, his smile threw shadows.
Sometimes a thing needed opening before closure was found.
A seed of hope caught a taste of moisture. Some wishful kernel buried deep, where he was loathe to acknowledge it lest it poison or choke him, began to sprout.
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