[Every move is like part of a dance, but a dance she is just a second off beat with. She dodges blows, and kicks, but just barely. Faltering again as another flash of a memory dulls her senses.
A trip to Paris, the rain... he complains about the weather and she calls it romantic.
She shakes her head, and moves in attacking again.]
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A trip to Paris, the rain... he complains about the weather and she calls it romantic.
She shakes her head, and moves in attacking again.]