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... inating black, like an ink stain. Not a dark brown, but a very deep grey like the dead of the night. Once you gaze inside, however, there were flashes of light there.

Hidden desires.

That was my first thought as I looked into his eyes.

We were mere kids then, twelve and thirteen. Mischievous, bored kids. Making chaos at a party. And by chaos, I didn’t mean pouring drinks to a lady’s dress, or setting a wild dog loose inside the venue. By chaos, I mean revealing a scandal ...

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