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backs of my hands.
At first, Yua's touch seemed icy cold. But it must have been because
the cup was so hot. Because now Yua's touch seemed to burn. Not a painful
burning, but rather a warm physical heat.
Raising the cup, I drained the last of the black liquid. Placing it
down on the table with more steadiness than I thought I was capable of, I
smiled weakly and said, "Okay. Now can I thank you?"
"Sure," Yua Aida said, pushing the other cup to me. "But let's see if
you can get a second cup in you while we talk."
Taking the cup and lifting it into the air in a mock toast, I said,
"Thanks to my rescuing angel." For a moment, I thought I saw a look of
startlement in Yua's grey eyes. But if it was there, it quickly passed.
"I don't even know your name," I added.
"Anggie," Yua Aida replied.
"Anggie?" I said. "And that's short for Angela?"
"Well, if you really must know. My full name is Angelica Maria
Dubourbon. And yours?"
"Chris. Christopher William Whalen at your service, fair lady.
Funny, when I
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