Chapter 22
Feel Something
Beginning Note: The song of this chapter is "Feel Something" by Jaymes Young
This chapter covers Saturday night and most of Sunday (its four days until Draco and Pansy's trials)
It could potentially be the final Saturday night that he ever got to spend with Draco, but Theo refused to allow himself to dwell on it, especially when Draco had just agreed to his first time having anal sex.
"Do you want a Sober-up, Drake?" Theo asked, as he kissed his lover's pale neck, his hand ghosting over the hard cock that was still confined by Draco's trousers.
Shaking his head, Draco whispered breathlessly, "I'm only mildly tipsy and I want to stay relaxed like I am right now. You've told me before that it's better if I'm relaxed."
"That's true. It's much better if you are relaxed, not to mention it'll be easier on your body also." Theo slowly opened Draco's trousers and freed his large cock from its confines. Draco exhaled a desperate breath, needy and wanting. "Let's go to the bedroom. Pans, Hermione, are you going to come watch?"
"Absolutely," Pansy said, hopping down from the table and putting a hand out to help Hermione down, "Come on Mi, we don't want to miss the show." She gave a little wiggle of her body that made Hermione let out a giggle, before the brunette witch's gaze caught Theo's.
Hermione chewed on her lower lip as she looked at Theo and Draco with hunger in her eyes.
Theo rubbed the leaking tip of Draco's cock and then kissed the blond soundly before dragging him into the bedroom with Pansy and Hermione following close behind.
"Wait for me to get our Princess ready to watch the show, Theo darling," Pansy purred into Theo's ear as she passed him, pulling Hermione to the head of the bed.
Grabbing Hermione's wrists, Pansy cast an incarcerous tying Hermione to the bedpost, then carefully she used her wand to slice the clothing that Hermione was wearing off her, exposing her nude form to her three lovers' hungry eyes. She allowed her hands to play and tease her while Hermione watched the boys, transfixed.
Theo kissed and stroked Draco all over, even taking his cock into his mouth for a few moments, before having the other man sit forward on the balls of his feet. Draco's knees were pushed against the headboard, completely exposing his body. Theo leaned in, putting his mouth against the tight hole of Draco's arse. Hermione watched in awe as the sweat broke out on Draco's brow and he whimpered, while Theo penetrated him repeatedly with his tongue.
Draco's legs shook and if Theo hadn't been holding him by the hips as he licked him, Hermione was sure the blond would have collapsed to the mattress.
Draco's cock was hard between his legs and the noises that came from him sounded like sobs, like the pleasure that Theo was giving him was more than he could stand. Hermione wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him, take that hard cock in her mouth, but she couldn't do anything but hang next to him as they were both dominated. "Theo," Draco moaned, "Gods, right there," he choked out, the words hardly understandable as the tremble of his legs became so intense that Theo pulled back and slapped Draco's arse with a chuckle before diving right back in.
Pansy's long nails ran over Hermione's olive skin, leaving light marks in her path. Her fingers paused to pinch the hard nipples she found causing Hermione's hips to buck. Pansy's hands touched every curve and line as she explored down Hermione's body, winding Hermione up to the point that she almost sounded as breathless as Draco beside her. Pansy made a small noise of satisfaction when she came between Hermione's legs and found that she was wet, her arousal dripping down her slit.
"Oh, what a messy girl you are," Pansy proclaimed in sensual satisfaction. "Do you like watching Draco come apart for Theo? Be honest."
"Yes." Hermione gasped the word, as Pansy slowly drew circles on her clit with her nail.
"Yes what?" Pansy murmured into her ear as she nipped at the earlobe.
"Yes, Mistress," Hermione almost didn't recognise her own husky voice as it passed her lips.
That got a purr of satisfaction from the raven haired witch. "Oh, good girl."
Theo pulled himself up, finally vanishing his own pants. He cast a lubrification charm on Draco followed by one that Hermione hadn't heard before. At her curious expression, Theo smiled, "it was from that helpful book from Cordelia in the bedroom charms chapter." Theo lovingly stroked Draco's arse cheeks, "it provides a light numbing, good for witches or wizards who are just starting to experiment with anal play."
"Fuck, I think I love our Mind Healer," Draco gasped, as Theo ran a finger along Draco's puckered hole. And Theo could not contain another chuckle as he lightly dipped his finger inside Draco.
"I wonder if McGonagall knows she is giving out those kinds of books."
Pansy looked up from where she was suckling Hermione's nipple as she slid two fingers in and out of her wet core, "Theo please, I can't work when you are mentioning the Headmistress in our bed. It's an absolute mood killer."
"My apologies, my Queen." Pansy nodded regally in response, turning her attention back to the witch whimpering beneath her. Theo licked and nipped at Draco's neck, as he lined himself up, rubbing the tip of his cock over Draco's entrance making the blond moan in anticipation.
Hermione felt as though she was going to melt right into the mattress. She met Draco's eyes as Theo slowly worked his cock into Draco's arse. Draco's panting breaths were quick and frantic as the brunette wizard worked his way inside him. His pupils were blown wide and Hermione could see the dripping end of his hard swollen cock where it jutted out between his legs.
Theo was so large, how was Draco taking him all?
Hair in his eyes Draco, next to her, had his knuckles gripping the headboard. Hermione could feel the heat of his panting breaths play across her skin as Theo took him. Draco moaned in pleasure and Theo groaned, "Holy fuck. You feel so bloody perfect. Look at how well you take my cock, Draco."
"What a good boy you are," Theo murmured, kissing Draco's neck when he bottomed out. Hermione felt herself get so much wetter as Theo's long fingered hands traced over Draco's biceps and forearms. Draco's tendons in his arms jumped as he desperately gripped the headboard. She felt anguished with wanting for Theo's long fingers to brush against her flushed skin as well.
Pansy chuckled darkly at Hermione as she watched where the other girl's eyes were focused.
"You like those hands of Theo's, don't you, Mi?" Hermione moaned softly and then again, but louder this time, as Pansy slid another finger into her cunt. "Salazar, I wish the Aurors hadn't taken my strap. I'd love to bend you over and take you while you watch the boys play."
That comment caused Theo to moan as well, as he leaned forward nipping Draco's shoulder. He looked over at Pansy, "Fuck, I miss your strap too."
"I bet you do, dirty boy," Pansy replied, grinning at him. "Now you need to focus if you want Draco to come untouched. Don't disappoint me."
"Of course, my Queen," Theo responded as he redoubled his efforts, sliding in and out of Draco whose head was thrown back onto Theo's shoulder, back arched. Hermione was vibrating, she couldn't stop watching them, but Pansy never stopped touching, licking, stroking. The edges of Hermione's vision began to blur as the tightening in her stomach clued her in to her impending climax. Pansy continued to slide her three fingers back and forth inside of Hermione's dripping cunt and Pansy's thumb pressing down on Hermione's clit, was going to send her right over the edge. The pressure was too much, felt too good and Hermione felt herself exploding around Pansy's fingers with a shout.
She met Draco's eyes and it was like an arch of magic snapped between the four of them. Suddenly Draco groaned and his cock twitched, streams of white cum flying upward to splash the headboard, coating his chest and the insides of his legs as well. Theo began pounding wildly and then stilled, moaning into Draco's neck, biting down hard as he spilled himself inside his lover. Pansy even let out a surprised gasp and her touching of Hermione froze for a moment.
Theo looked up into Hermione and Pansy's eyes, "Fuck. That was…something else."
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Waking up in the early morning, Draco felt deliciously sore. There were bite marks on his neck and shoulders that stung lightly as he stretched his body trying to release some of the tension. Theo had managed to draw blood more than once and Draco had been surprised when he loved it. The territoriality of it was what was exciting. Theo had marked Draco as his. If there had been a Quidditch practice today, Draco would have pulled off his shirt and Theo's marks would have been on display for the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. The thought had Draco half hard already. He imagined the looks on people's faces if they realised that Theo had done this to him, claimed Draco Malfoy, had owned him, had possessed him.
Fuck.
Draco realised that his arms were around Theo's middle, his fingertips delightfully close to the cock that had given him so much pleasure last night. Why had they waited so long to do that? It had been incredible. Fuck he hoped they could do it again before he went to prison on Friday, it was only a few days away now.
He became aware that the warmth he felt behind him were Hermione's tits pressed against his back, causing him to smile into Theo's back. Gods, she'd looked so pretty last night tied to the post of the canopy bed, calling Pansy "Mistress" and coming apart while she watched him be taken. The way her amber eyes shone gold when she came, she was glorious and perfect.
How was this his life?
Well the Fates were likely just torturing him with something this perfect just to snatch it away after all. He was a Malfoy. Happiness just wasn't written in the stars for him. It wasn't written in the stars for Blacks either, and he had the misfortune of being both. He basically had two bloodlines filled with tragic backstories, paving the way for his own life.
Theo hadn't disillusioned his scars before falling asleep, and the sight and feel of the layers of knife wounds and whipping scars under Draco's cheek made Draco's heart hurt. Thoros Nott was already in Azkaban and scheduled to get the Kiss before Yule for his war crimes, but not for what he'd done to his son. Regardless that his fate was already sealed, if Draco had the chance once he was inside, he'd like to kill the man with his bare hands for what he had done to Theo.
Draco had few scars from his own father, his mother had always healed him meticulously, but Theo's father liked leaving the scars to drive the "point" of his lessons home further. Draco wasn't sure that there was a point other than blood supremacy and sadism. Thoros was a truly evil bastard who only found pleasure in destroying everything around him and watching it burn.
Being a wealthy heir to an Ancient and Noble house was no protection against the darkness and evil of one's own parents. His mother had told him about her cousin Regulus, a family favourite, more than once. How he had survived living with his brutal and cruel parents just to die doing something of no great importance in the Dark Lord's service baffled Draco. His mother had always said that her mother and father were gentle with her as a child, but how then did one explain the brutality and evil in Bellatrix? Had the eldest daughter borne the familial violence that his mother had been spared as the youngest?
He swore to himself that if he was ever so lucky to marry and have children he would never ever raise a hand against them, much less use the cruciatus on them. How could one inflict such suffering on one's own children? Perhaps it said something good about him, that that was incomprehensible to him, and meant that someday he could have been a good father.
However, that would mean he escaped a lifetime in Azkaban anyway. That hardly seemed like a likely possibility.
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Pansy had really come to enjoy listening to Cordelia speak. She had thought of the whole therapy business as muggle nonsense in the beginning, but it seemed obvious to her now that it was helping heal her unseen scars. She still felt terrified by ridiculous things, but now she had options: things that she could try to help her feel better and come back to her present reality. It was nice not to feel helpless in the face of everything that had happened. Cordelia was an unbelievable thing: an adult that saw Pansy as more than her bloodline, than her house, than the girl who had suggested handing Harry Potter over to the Dark Lord. Pansy was grateful for the experience, she really was, and she hoped that she would be able to continue it during eighth year.
"This morning we are going to keep talking about negative self-talk, because I have a lot to say about it and you all are going to have to listen to my soapbox. I personally have struggled with negative self-talk my entire life, and while I lived through the first Wizarding War my role was in no way equal to any of yours in this group. Hogwarts remained safe the entirety of the fighting, which can not be said this time by any stretch of the imagination." The healer gestured towards the now fixed stone walls that still showed signs of the damage that had been done to it.
Cordelia smiled that open smile of hers, that made even the sourest amongst them smile back. "I want each of you to learn to notice when you're being self-critical. If it would feel cruel to say that to a friend, an animal or a child, don't say it to or about yourself, even in your thoughts."
"Fun fact about me," Cordelia shared, "You all know my inner critic. His name is Severus Snape. I was just a few years behind him in school, and let me tell you what, he mellowed out by the time you all had him. He was an absolute nightmare of a professor in the early eighties."
Neville's mouth hung open, "How could he possibly have been worse?" The sandy haired boy whispered, making everyone laugh at the comment, his cheeks turning red as he realised he'd just spoken his thoughts aloud.
"He was young, angry, and his students were the only outlets for that anger after the war. By the time you had him as a professor, he was embittered and depressed with his life. Despair had taken its toll. Because, unlike you all, Professor Snape never got the therapy that he desperately needed, he was used, not by one side of the war, but both. So when a little internal voice talks to me about how I am failing and nothing I do is good enough, it sounds just like Professor Snape."
"Mine sounds like my father," Theo burst out, and then almost unwillingly followed it up with, "When I have a voice inside my head, telling me I can't accomplish anything, it sounds like my father."
"That's very common," Cordelia stated, smiling kindly at Theo, "especially when you had fathers who were abusive or emotionally withdrawn as tends to be the case in Sacred 28 households." The Purebloods in the circle nodded thoughtfully as they well knew what the norm was in their social circles. "When our fathers don't show us love, we take anything that they are willing to give to us, even if that anything is emotional torture. We want our fathers to love us, right, even if that is an impossible request for a narcissist or an abuser. We will do anything for the smallest crumb of praise or affection. Abusers know this, they thrive off this knowledge. Alternatively, some parents or mentors might engage in something called love bombing. Love bombing is when someone lavishes you with attention or affection, especially in order to influence or manipulate you. They can put you on a pedestal and also mistreat you. They make you become reliant on them and the love they can provide."
"Oh my god," Hermione blurted out, her eyes wide as saucers. "That sounds just like Dumbledore and Harry!"
Cordelia only nodded thoughtfully, keeping any comments on Potter and the dead Headmaster's relationship to herself, because there was no way that Cordelia didn't have any. "Love bombing is often a warning sign of further abuse down the road. Some abusers who engage in love bombing do it to manipulate their targets. You'll do anything to get that level of attention and affection again because it is addictive. It's often used for cult recruitment, although I know it was not the Death Eater's method of choice."
"It was a bit more along the lines of 'join or die,' if they really wanted you," Theo simply stated, "I managed to be perceived as completely worthless due to my father's low opinion of me, so that kept me off the noseless twit's radar."
"If you said no to Voldemort, he would torture you and then have his giant snake eat you," Draco murmured, his eyes locked on his hands, as if he looked up he would witness that exact horror again. At his words, Hannah Abbott looked as though she was going to vomit, but Neville looked at Draco with a calculating expression that Pansy had never seen on the Gryffindor before.
Cordelia nodded, "A lot of the things that happen with muggle cults are not reflective of the Death Eaters as an organisation. It's more of a terrorist supremacist organisation, but anyway I am getting off topic. There was a method to my madness when I explained that Snape is the voice of my internal critic. When you think of your inner critic as a force outside of yourself, it's a lot easier to realise that you don't have to agree. And it becomes less threatening and more easy to see how ridiculous some of your critical thoughts can be. Especially if you give your inner critic a nickname in an effort to take its power away. For example, using myself again, I call my inner critic Sev or Sevvy. It removes some of the power that my critic had as a living person. When he is the intrusive thought in my mind telling me that everything I am attempting to accomplish is pointless then referring to that voice as Professor Snape gives him power, calling him a nickname that he would have hated gives some of that power back to me."
"Due to magical portraiture, one of the things that I can actually do is cross-examine my inner critic. His portrait is up in the Headmistress' office. It is awake and he is as unpleasant as he ever was. One of the damaging aspects of negative self-talk is that it often goes unchallenged. After all, if it's going on in your head, others may not be aware of what you're saying and thus can't tell you how wrong you are. Sharing your negative thoughts with friends or lovers may make you feel more vulnerable, but it's a critical piece to overcoming it. You can also always share these negative self-talk with me in private counselling. I hope more of you make use of it before the program comes to an end. It's Sunday today, in case you lost track. I know I thought it was Thursday until Healer Atticus set me straight earlier, and then we only have four more days of group intensive."
"When our inner critic is at its worst, it can sound like our worst enemy. Often we'll say things to ourselves in our heads that we'd never say to a friend. What I want to suggest is that you try each time you catch yourself speaking negatively in your head to make it a point to imagine yourself saying these negative thoughts to a treasured friend. This is a great way to shift your self-talk in general. If you would never say these negative things to a friend, then you shouldn't be thinking them about yourself either. I know more than a few of you are hurtful to friends on purpose in the hopes that they will leave before they can hurt you, but that is a conversation for a different day."
"Sometimes looking at things in the long term can help you to realise that you may be placing too much emphasis on something that won't matter in the longer story of your life. You might ask yourself if something will really matter in five years or perhaps in a single one."
"Another way to shift perspective is to imagine that you are looking at your problems from a great distance. Imagining the enormity of the earth or even the universe and our tiny size in comparison can remind you that most of your worries aren't as big as they seem, because in the grand scheme of things we are all very small. This can often minimise the negativity, fear, and the urgency that you may find in your negative self-talk. We are going to continue to be exploring negative self-talk along with some dreams for the future tomorrow. I know we are wrapping up soon but I know you have more to share and talk about here while we have this special time together."
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Draco couldn't help but be excited that his plan of gifting the books to the library was finally coming together. Theo and Hermione both had the password to the Headmistress' office, so they escorted him and Pansy (who refused to be left out) there.
The delivery of the donated books was swiftly coming through the floo into McGonagall's office, filling the space quickly. None of the young witches and wizards had ever seen their Headmistress look so pleased, McGonagall's wide smile was a surprise to all of them.
"Mr. Malfoy, you arranged all of this?" The elder witch asked as another house elf walked through the floo, a crate of book levitated behind the small creature.
"It was my idea, Headmistress, however my mother handled all the logistics." Draco responded as he surveyed the trunks, opening each one in turn. He found a package addressed to himself and set it aside. Theo took it and shrunk it, placing it carefully in the pocket of his knapsack. Draco smiled at him, wondering what his mother had sent under the watchful eyes of the Aurors this morning.
"But without your idea, this never would have happened," McGonagall was saying.
Draco opened his mouth to tell her his part hadn't been that important yet again, but this time Theo cut him off.
"Indeed, Headmistress, but if we allow Draco to downplay his contributions all day, then Madam Pince will never receive her new books."
"Thank you for that excellent point Mr. Nott, " the Headmistress said, "I hate to keep Irma waiting for her surprise. Let's levitate one trunk of books each since there are five. That should keep the strain low for all of us."
Pansy smirked at Hermione, at the comment.
"Madam Pince," Draco called as the five of them entered the library, the large trunks of books being levitated to their place before the librarian's desk. The black and silver trunks all popped open with a whispered Alohomora from Hermione.
If someone had asked Hermione to describe Madam Pince's reaction upon seeing the open trunks of rare and ancient magical tomes, Hermione would have likened it to a child on Christmas morning who has gotten more than they have ever dreamt of. The tightness of her face disappeared as the librarian stared at the books in wonder and delight. Her fingertips raced back and forth over the spines, her mouth moving silently as she read the titles to herself.
"Words can't express how grateful I am," Madam Pince exclaimed, "Is this a copy of every book that we couldn't repair?" She didn't even look up to see Draco's nod. "And some that we've never been able to acquire a copy of as well." When she finally looked up, the librarian's eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "Mr Malfoy, you are a marvel."
When she walked forward and embraced him, Draco had no idea what to do, so he put his arms around the woman who had been so kind to him this summer despite having no reason to hug him and hugged her back. It was strange how sometimes people who had always been in the background of your life suddenly became a starring role.
He was really going to miss her when he went to Azkaban.
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"Lu, I need to talk to you," Blaise grabbed her arm, pulling her into an alcove behind one of the few suits of armour that had survived the battle. She let herself be dragged into relative privacy with a small secretive smile, hoping that she could finally get him to go over the intimacy boundary that he had erected between them. When he pulled her against his chest and his deep mahogany eyes stared down at her, she was certain that things were about to change between them. She felt it in her bones.
He held her face between his hands. "You know that I love you?" He asked, his thumbs tracing circles on her jawline.
She nodded, although he'd never said it so clearly before, he'd made his regard known in myriad other ways.
"You know that I would like to spend the rest of our lives together after we get out of this Merlin-forsaken school?"
Luna nodded again, head tilted wondering where this line of conversation was headed.
"Well then how am I supposed to protect you when you don't tell me about things like getting attacked in a loo?"
Luna looked at him in wide-eyed blinking surprise. How had he found out about that? If Draco Malfoy had told him she was going to be a bit put out, but she didn't think he would do such a thing.
"How did you find out about that?" She asked, her hand reaching up to stroke the column of his neck, trying to ease the tension that she found there.
"I have my ways woman," Blaise said, dark eyes flashing in annoyance, "You would do well to remember that before you attempt to hide the fact that you were assaulted from me."
"Did Draco tell you?" Luna asked, waspishly, her eyes narrowing.
Blaise's eyes widened in surprise. "Draco knew too? I will be taking that up with him later. But no, I have others looking out for you, and before you ask me I'm not telling, it's noone you know. If you won't keep me in your confidence then needs must, Luna. And when you are my wife the amount I watch over you will be tenfold."
"You are assuming that I will say yes to marriage and you haven't even given me a courting gift yet," Luna smiled as he murmured something about rectifying that at the soonest possible opportunity underneath his breath, "and to be honest I didn't want to worry you. I handled it on my own."
"That's not really how these things work my love." Blaise kissed her fingertips, then turned her hands so that he could put his lips on the softness of her palms. "I do worry. That bitch has it out for you because of me. I worry about you every minute of every day you are not with me. If I could move you into our own dorm room away from everyone else that is what I would do."
"I hardly think the headmistress would allow that. And besides those girls are in Slytherin. How safe could I be?"
"I would keep you safe."
She laughed musically, "Perhaps you'd just keep me confined to your bed and that's something that I could live with as well."
Blaise's lips parted and she seized her moment by raising herself up on tiptoe and capturing his mouth with hers. One of his hands flew to her hair, the other gripping her hip so tightly that Luna thought she would have bruises, but she could not for the life of her find it in herself to care.
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As had become their habit, the four of them were drinking in the Head's suite only this time they were alone, they hadn't allowed any outsiders to join them. Seamus and Dean had been surprised when Theo told them that it would be a quiet night in the Head Dorm, but had wandered off in search of other amusements. Theo felt almost guilty, he knew that the gay couple had difficulties socializing comfortably with others because of the snide homophobic remarks that would frequently send Seamus into a rage especially if he had been drinking. In the end though, Theo had to put his lovers first.
There was a tension in the room despite the good day that they had had.
Twirling her glass of red wine in her long nailed hand, it was obvious that Pansy was in a mood. Draco and Hermione seemed nervous and tense at Pansy's scowl and obvious annoyance.
"Do we need to play a game, my love? So that you are in a better mood?" Theo asked.
"As much as I would love to get some of my unrest out, making you bleed in front of Draco and Hermione is probably not going to make either of them feel at ease." Pansy sipped at her wine, considering.
"We aren't Daphne, Pans," Draco pointed out from where he sat on the floor, his fire whiskey long since emptied. His head leaned back against Theo's outstretched thigh.
"Still," Pansy said, "The play Theo and I engage in is heavy and rough. It's not something to be surprised with. And that's what you both would be at this point: surprised. You think you know what we get up to, but when you were actually faced with it. You'd both lose it." Theo thought that she was exaggerating the case, but he wasn't about to argue with his mistress when she was in this sort of a bad mood.
"Well lets play a game of Pansy says. That should cheer her up. I hope that you'll enjoy playing as much as I do."
And what if we don't do everything correctly, Hermione asked from her place next to Pansy.
"Well that means that I get to punish you," Pansy said, her eyes lighting up. "And that will be fun for me too. Theo's rarely naughty, he has to beg me to punish him. But you," her hands caressed Hermione's cheek, "and you," she ran her nails through Draco's hair, making him purr in pleasure, "both have a tendency to be brats."
"Hey!" Hermione cried, offended. "I'm obedient."
"You can be, Mi, but you like to push the envelope, test your boundaries. That's a bit bratty. You can't tell me that you don't get intense pleasure at times at breaking the rules." Pansy raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor as she ran a long perfectly manicured finger around the rim of her wine glass, causing the crystal to let out a small zing of vibration into the air.
Guiltily Hermione blushed and looked at the floor. Pansy's fingers pushed her chin up to meet her eyes, "Now, now Mi. That's not a bad thing, we just need to talk through your limits when being punished, because as far as what I'm willing to do to punish someone, I haven't found it yet."
Draco paled at those words and Theo rubbed his shoulder reassuringly, "Pans isn't going to do anything that you are uncomfortable with, Drake. As long as you tell her what your limits are. I mean I even have a few. No cock and ball torture. No new scars. No branding."
Hermione choked on her drink. "Theo, are you seriously saying that your limits are things like red hot metal being pressed into your flesh?"
Pushing a wayward curl out of his face, Theo shrugged, "A man has to have some things that he just won't do."
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