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Scylla wished the edges of the old photo were sharp enough to slice into her skin. That some of the agony she was drowning in could leak out and she would be able to breathe again. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how quickly she went from laying in the blonde’s arms to only seeing her in stolen photographs, moments belonging to a Raelle she never knew. As it was, knowing Raelle now was as intangible as the honeyed dreams of taking the blonde to a far off lighthouse had been. So she settled for trying to make discolored pixels fill the void the blonde had left.