It was like stealing.

The first rush, the lift of her chin. Tracing warm skin, the little bends of her back. The room was too bright for this.

Words were clear, in place of action – or was it just her? Regardless, it had been coming, and new news did not sway them.

The thing was that she did not seem to care. It took weeks for her to feel anything but empowered, strong. And even then she was still running on those vibes every day, energised by her freedom in a place where anyone could be anyone.

She knew this was where she was meant to be, and everything was unfolding just as it should.

Perhaps the learnings would come later, or she would be stolen from too. But maybe it doesn’t work that way, in all the reality and messiness of human choices.

you always have a choice

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