She stepped closer to him.
Her breath wafted onto his face and the city of light in her eyes
was extinguished when she stepped into his shadow.
She's so sad. So very, very sad.
"No, I never get any presents.
Ever."
Only those two holes, a breath away.
Their breaths mingled and rose, dissipated.
"Yes."
His voice was not even a whisper.
Only an exhalation. The girl's face was close.
That was why he didn't see her eyes change,
how they narrowed, took on another expression. He didn't see how her upper lip drew back
He only saw her cheek and while her mouth was nearing
his throat he drew up his hand and stroked her face.
The girl froze for a moment, then pulled back.
"What did you do that for?"
"I'm sorry . . . I--"
"What did you do?"
"I . . ."
Oskar looked at his hand, still holding the Cube,
and relaxed his grip on it. He had been squeezing it so hard
the corners had left deep imprints in his hand.
He stretched it out toward her.
She slowly shook her head.
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