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Summary
Phainon looks like the type who knows what he’s doing: the type who makes sweet love, the kind that twists your stomach in fat knots and has your eyes swell up because you finally feel cared for, that breaks you down into unrecognisable pieces to be tossed at sea like ashes.
Mydeimos thinks of how many people Phainon’s hands have touched before him, younger and prettier than him, all gathered at the bottom of these breathtaking ocean eyes, and he thinks he’s not a people’s person but he could see himself becoming a Phainon’s person.