youmakemeneedyou: Memory The rope was not rope, it was not a prop, it was not even a way of holding her in place. It was a memory. A memento of his touch, of the strength that transferred from him to her as he wrapped her in the rope. It held a power

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youmakemeneedyou: Memory The rope was not rope, it was not a prop, it was not even a way of holding her in place. It was a memory. A memento of his touch, of the strength that transferred from him to her as he wrapped her in the rope. It held a power

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