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Author's note: This is a soft, sensual first-time story with a little added meaning. Thank you to thatsbogus for beta reading and patiently trying their best to make it better despite repeatedly ramming into the brick wall that is me : P I hope you enjoy (:
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Kyler was pretty light. I definitely could have just carried her all the way into the locker room, but there's something dignified about the crowd all clapping as a player -- arm around their coach -- limps off the field.
It sure did take longer, though.
By the time we finally emerged into the locker room -- the clip of the cleat on her one functioning foot missing its matching clop -- I was starting to really feel her arm digging into the back of my neck.
"Come on, Kyler, let's just, ugh, get you to the... table," I grunted out, helping her heave herself onto the trainer's table in the back room. With the game still going, there was nobody else in the locker room. The trainer just said to "put some ice on it," so I cracked a couple of cold packs and took a look at the wiry forward.
She was far from the team's best player. But even though she was a senior, she'd already grown into her role better than anyone could have expected since the start of the season. Although, like most teenagers, she was doing her growing in spurts, clearly. Her long, deerlike legs seemed to take up more than half her height, and she ran like it, too. Still, if she kept at it, she'd probably be more than pretty good out there in no time.
To her credit, unlike her legs, her eyes were anything but doe-like, even after a collision that I didn't want to admit had worried me at first, but had turned out to have looked much worse than it apparently was. Red rings around her green eyes showed she'd shed a few tears, but who could blame her? She ran full speed into Taylor Greene. She was lucky she apparently hadn't broken anything.
Kyler rubbed her left leg with some well-earned concern, though. The swelling was starting in her ankle, and although the trainer said it wasn't broken, her body sure seemed to think so.
"Here, let's get this off, okay?" I said as kindly as I could, gently peeling down her sock. I usually had to be the hardass. Be the hardass and coach junior varsity, that was the gig as assistant coach. But Kyler didn't talk much and always did her job, the kind of kid who was always harder on herself than any asshole coach like me could ever be.
She sucked in a sharp breath when I had trouble getting the sock down over the rapidly growing melon inside her lower shin. I stopped and she gritted her teeth -- then nodded at me to continue.
I gave her an encouraging smile and managed to get the sock off, the cleat long forgotten on the sideline somewhere. Lifting up her long leg as delicately as I could, the shin guard was at least much easier to remove.
Half a game of evaporated sweat assaulted my nostrils. Shins never seemed to smell particularly bad when left to their own devices, but slap a shin guard on them? I'd have to ask Mrs. Hanrahan about what scientific miracle was responsible for that.
My fingers lightly grazed the swell on Kyler's ankle. She twitched a little, but didn't pull it back.
"That hurt?" I asked, looking back to her. She was sitting up, teeth jammed together, strands of her sandy brown hair matted to her flushed forehead. Her cheeks were even rosier.
"N-no, not really. I mean, it hurts, but n-not when you -- well, it still hurts but, you don't hurt it, umm--" She seemed to flush even redder, so I showed the poor kid a little mercy and cut her off with a warm smile.
"Yeah, I know what you mean," I said, patting her knee. That made her wince.
"Ah, that hurt though."
"Sorry, she got you all over, huh," I said, tracing my fingertips up her bent leg. The outer half was starting to get a little yellower, a little browner -- starting to bruise up and down.
The cold packs now cold, I nestled one against her ankle, shooting her a look intended to get her to hold it there herself. Her green eyes just stared back into mine, though, while she lay back on the trainer's table, elbows propping up her slight body. Her expression was hard to read, and it seemed like as intently as she was staring at me, she wasn't seeing me staring back.
"Kyler," I said gently, and nodded toward the cold pack.
"Oh, oh yeah." She smiled a little, blushing again, and tried to lean down, but stopped and clutched at her side, clamping her eyes shut in pain. "Ahhh, that hurts."
Tentatively, she lifted the bottom of her grass-stained jersey and revealed more bruising up her left side. It looked like it was gonna be painful for a while.
As she held her jersey up, her gaze flicked up to me, filled with a combination of annoyance at the hassle her injury was causing her, and the softer, younger expression underneath that just said it hurt and she wanted it to stop hurting.
When I was on hardass duty, my job was to forget they were kids with a world of teenage problems swirling around in their heads in the hope they'd forget, too. But now, that was impossible to do. She was tough, but she was still just a kid who wanted somebody to make it all better.
"Here," I said gently, helping Kyler pull the jersey up over her head.
The bruising went up most of her side, where she'd collided at full speed with her much larger opposite number. The skin under her jersey was noticeably paler, not used to being exposed to the elements even as the rest of her body proved she spent most afternoons in the sun.
Sitting on the padded trainer's table, now just in her white uniform shorts and a gray sports bra she barely needed, Kyler started to hunch in on herself, those green eyes flitting toward the open door to the trainer's room.
Was she self-conscious? I couldn't remember her having any issues changing around her teammates, but I hadn't really been paying attention, either.
Without a word, I quietly closed the door, even though there wasn't anyone in the locker room yet. There was no window, no way to see in, and the door locked automatically from the inside. It was just us now.
She smiled at me weakly, her injured leg straight on the table and the other bent at the knee.
Again without needing to say anything, I put my hand on her healthy shoulder, giving her a light tap to intimate she should lie back on the pillow.
Instead, I felt some of the tension in her coiled body dissolve, but the only movement she made was to look up at me, the simmering emeralds in her eyes giving away how much just my hand on her shoulder seemed to make her feel better.
"Thanks, Coach," she mumbled.
My fingers gently slid along her shoulder, as knobby as the rest of her, giving her as comforting a caress as I could in an attempt not to embarrass her.
"Kyler," I said quietly, smiling a little but trying not to laugh, "lie back."
Her eyebrows jumped and the tension returned as she seemed to understand she'd misinterpreted why my hand was there.
"Oh, y-yeah, right," she stammered, her eyes darting anywhere but at me.
I tried not to embarrass her any further and walked to her other side, busying myself with one of the cold packs while I tried to work out what it was I was seeing in her nervous, dancing eyes.
"Hold still," I told her, in that same quiet, gentle tone of voice that suddenly seemed to come so naturally even though it seemed so foreign coming out of my mouth.
Steadying her leg with one hand, I positioned the pack on her swollen ankle with the other. Even though I was long since done, I softly ran my hand along her leg to just above her knee -- back and forth. Through her soft, smooth skin, I could feel some of the tension dissipate again, even as she held her crossed arms over her stomach.
When my eyes reached hers, it was clear she'd been looking at me the whole time, that inscrutable expression on her face again, and it took her a beat too long to register I was looking at her, too. She didn't say anything, and took yet another beat to flick her gaze somewhere else.
I traced my palm up her thigh, over her shorts, and to the tiny bit of pale, exposed stomach poking out underneath her folded arm, and felt her shiver just slightly at my touch.
"Kyler," I said in that same tone, "gotta get to your bruises up here, okay?"
I rested my hand on her arm, and she looked to me again. I could recognize the anxiousness there now, the push and pull between two opposing forces behind her strained expression -- inside this nervous, quiet girl whose eyes always seemed drawn to me.
Seeming to steel herself, she slowly dropped her arms to her sides, revealing the most serious bruising starting to show over her ribs. Involuntarily, my fingertips traced over the purple just under her smooth skin, as lightly as I could. She flinched and sucked in.
"Sorry," I said just as gingerly.
My hand stayed on her trim body, my palm sliding across her stomach as comfortingly as I could where there wasn't bruising. I watched her as she fought whatever battle was raging inside her, and couldn't tell if she found it comforting at all: She was as tense as ever, her body as rigid as if my hand were a wild animal set to bite her if she didn't stay absolutely still.
But her eyes didn't match the trepidation in her tightened muscles -- they followed my hand with something else in mind.
I kept trying to gently soothe her as my other hand applied the cold pack, knowing it wouldn't feel good. Sure enough, her body gave a little jolt as it made contact with her ribs, her skin coming flush with my palm on the other side. She didn't protest, though.
Kyler's eyes stayed calmer than her body, looking up at me while I adjusted the cold pack on her discolored skin. My other hand continued to slowly rub her torso -- across her stomach, up her far ribs, back to just under her bra.
The droning of the air conditioning made every other sense seem to melt away -- amplifying the soft smoothness of her skin on my hand and the mix of emotions behind those green eyes I still couldn't quite put my finger on.
I gave a tiny jolt myself when I felt something against my hand, over the cold pack. It was hers -- her clammy palm on my fingers.
"I-I got it, Coach," she said, barely loud enough to be heard over the air conditioning.
I nodded. As I extricated my hand, I noticed her eyes hadn't left mine.
Without a thought, I let my freed hand reach out to the few stray strands of sunkissed brown hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, bending in closer to delicately brush them aside. I smiled as reassuringly as I knew how, and her eyes seemed to gleam even greener in return.
I felt myself leaning closer, trying to figure out what it was I was seeing behind this 18-year-old's anxious gaze. Her lips seem to twitch just a fraction, maybe even quiver... and recognition finally dawned -- recognition of the longing lurking just there, underneath the surface, pleading to get out. It triggered in me a rush of connection, of something shared with this awkward, shy teenager on the table.
Kyler's body tensed against my hand, but I lowered myself even closer, able to smell the sweat drying on her lithe, nearly naked body. The closer I inched, the more she had trouble holding the expression on her face, threatening to melt into the need burning through her eyes.
A centimeter from her lips, her eyes closed, still full of the anxious, uncertain pining I identified inside them that was making me feel more protective and caring than I thought I was capable of being.
My lips pressed against hers and I felt the quiver in her mouth give way to the desire. I relished her taste as we kissed, the salt of dried sweat and maybe a few tears alongside the unmistakable excitement and nervousness that was pulsing through her.
I ran one hand along her uninjured side while I kissed her, lying back on the trainer's table, and the other hand softly raked through her unkempt hair. She let out a moan so small I wasn't sure I'd heard it so much as felt it escape into my mouth and reverberate through me.
When we finally parted, my thumb continued to gently stroke her cheek. But the anxiety in her eyes now seemed to have graduated to terror.
"Coach I'm-I'm -- I'm so sorry oh my God -- I--"
My thumb crossed her thin, soft lips, still moistened from my tongue.
"Shh," I told her. "You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong."
I smiled at her -- that warm, encouraging smile I so rarely got to show, to let her know she was safe in here -- safe with me.
The fear in Kyler's eyes said she still was sure she was going to get into trouble -- or maybe something worse -- even though I'd been the one to initiate the kiss. I knew how that felt, too.
Still hovering inches from the deep blush in her cheeks, I dropped my mouth to her collarbone and kissed her reassuringly, letting my tongue trail between my lips. She tucked her chin, staring down at me with that mix of disbelief, shame -- and more than a little desire. Yes, there was no doubt about it now.
I continued kissing down her smooth, taut body, feeling the tiny hairs rise at my every touch. As lightly as I could, I lifted her hand and she let me kiss the bruises on her side, cold and swelling against my lips.
"Any better?" I asked quietly, seriously, my chin still hovering above her belly button as I peered up at her. Kyler nodded slightly, her brow scrunched into a knot and her glassy green eyes looking like they might water any second.
I smiled and moved back up to her head, standing next to her and leaning in. Automatically, she turned in anticipation, her lips eagerly joining in this time as we kissed once again. I stroked her hair while I let her tongue explore, gently guiding the inexperienced high schooler until she had to come up for air.
Flushed now and panting, she was still as nervous as ever, looking at me.
"It's okay, Kyler, really," I told her softly, stroking her cheek with an affection I didn't need to fake.
She didn't seem convinced, as much as her expression screamed that she wanted to be.
I understood perfectly well. Being a teenager meant being unsure of everything, except the things you only later realized you had no business being sure about at all. That was doubly true when your brain was desperately clinging to a lie -- but your body was telling you the truth, loud and clear.
I knew it would drive her close to panic, but I swung a leg onto the trainer's table and straddled Kyler below the hips, folding my knees on either side of her. Sure enough, panic flooded her eyes and she sat up -- until I put a calming hand on her chest.
Wordlessly, I left my palm flat against her warm, soft skin, feeling the careening beat of her heart pounding out of control as her mind raced, sorting out what she wanted. The beating began to slow just a bit, the panic receding, though the fear remained -- I could see it in her eyes as clearly as I could feel it in her tense body beneath me.
Silently, I closed in to kiss her again, and this time she let the cold pack drop to the floor, her cool fingers caressing my cheek like they were carrying out an experiment.
She did her best to lead this time, making up in determination and longing what she lacked in experience.
While we kissed, I reached behind her, pulling her into me and holding her small back in my hands, encouragingly sliding them up and down as her tongue gained enthusiasm, letting her desire be her guide.
When I undid her sports bra, it remained trapped between us and she gasped, freezing. She pulled back just an inch, staring into my eyes for the reassurance she seemed desperate for so she could feel comfortable with what she wanted to happen.
I brushed another uncooperative strand from her reddened face.
"Okay?" I said to her so quietly I wasn't sure she would even hear.
She paused, then gave a short nod, anxiousness still radiating.
I nodded in agreement. "You're okay, Kyler," I whispered in her ear, pulling her into me for a hug as I straddled her on the trainer's table. She wrapped her arms around me in response, nestling herself against my shoulder, and I kissed her cheek, slowly proceeding down the side of her neck until she was ready.
Kyler leaned back to let my mouth continue its work, her arms still loosely hanging from the back of my neck, and the bra fell between us.
I didn't draw attention to it, though the way she gripped my neck left no doubt that she was anything but unaware she was exposed.
Instead, I kept gently kissing down her chest, and she leaned back further to allow me to keep going. She had to let go of my neck as she bent backward in my arms, arching her chest to my mouth and letting a small whimper escape her lips while I kissed the small swell of her breast.
I focused on keeping the same pace, as if nothing was different, even as I felt my own excitement building at the taste of her hardening nipple between my lips. I teased it with my tongue, giving her a light suck and swirl, and I felt the moan course through her body in my arms.
Gently, I laid her down on her back and turned my attention to the other breast, readjusting over her. Her hands tightly gripped the sides of the table while my fingers and tongue played with her nipples.
The anxiety that had made her body so tense and stiff seemed to be evaporating away with every swirl of my tongue, and when I chanced a look up at her, she was biting her lip -- her eyes clenched shut at the feeling of my mouth on her breasts.
She didn't make any move to stop me when my lips kept going lower -- down the uninjured ridge of her ribs to her belly button, deep in the valley of her concave stomach while she seemed to hold in a deep breath.
I could feel her eyes on me now and the tension returning, a fresh anxiety surfacing for her to worry about as my lips approached the waistband of her shorts.
Carefully sliding down her legs, I dropped the other cold pack to the floor, then slipped my fingers under the edge of her shorts and her panties underneath. I looked up her trembling, lean body -- coated by a shining sheen of sweat from the combination of the game and the nervousness that had been oozing out of her since -- and Kyler stared back at me, propped up on her elbows.
Her green eyes seemed as unsteady as the rest of her, and as primed for me to continue as she was uncertain that she wanted to acknowledge it.
Finally, her bottom lip still in the clutches of her teeth, Kyler gave me a small, short nod, and her cheeks flushed red in real time.
I slid her shorts and underwear down, catching a fresh whiff of sweat and something sweeter as I gingerly looped them off her swollen ankle and onto the floor. I felt her let out of the breath she'd been holding, coming out in a self-conscious shudder.
Maybe she couldn't bear to look, because she'd laid her head back on the pillow, her hands giving the table a death grip again. It seemed like she was trying to keep herself from jumping off the table.
Gently, I let my fingertips glide along her good leg, up her soft, slim thigh and to her hip. I slithered up her body, luxuriating in every inch of her smooth, warm skin until I reached her face.
She was trying not to look at me as I lay there, balanced on my side to keep my weight off of her while I took in the churning emotions overcoming the naked 18-year-old underneath me. I gave her a moment, then cupped her cheek in my hand, softly nudging her to look at me.
Kyler slowly turned and her green eyes flicked to mine. I smiled at her with all the soothing warmth I could, and kissed her again, hoping my lips could convey everything my smile couldn't. Her hands left the sides of the table and grabbed for me -- driven by a combination of lust and need for comfort, I could tell -- and she sat up, hanging on me while we kissed.
There was a desperation in her tongue now as it aggressively explored inside my mouth, and she pawed at me, pulling me closer. She moaned even as I tasted a tear dropping from her cheek.
"You're okay," I told her again in a whisper, trying to slow my pace to help her calm down. "Everything's okay, Kyler." I held her face in my hands, burning hot against my palms, and I smiled at her again, trying to will her to understand I was telling her the truth.
Another tear fell, and I wiped it away with my thumb, then kissed her softly, whispering to her again.
"You're okay," I repeated.
Slowly, I shifted to the side, and let a hand slide down her thin, sinewy body, still holding her tightly in a twisted half-embrace so that her head was perched on my far shoulder, unable to see where my hand was going.
Kyler gasped at my fingers sliding down her smooth mound and I very gently started to rub along the outer folds of her labia. She was wet and eager, her body well ahead of the rest of her from enduring my touch for so long already.
I felt her shallow breathing against my ear as her hands clutched me tighter, and I let my finger trace along her slit, before finally sliding inside.
Her mouth was open wide, I could feel, but only a small whimper came out while I got her used to the feeling of my finger sliding in and out of her opening. The heat of her eager young pussy against my hand stirred the urge inside me to speed up, but I fought it, keeping a deliberate pace to make her as comfortable as possible in my arms.
I let my finger slip out and up to above her clit, testing her body's reaction as I pressed tight little circles into her skin.
"Coachhh..." she whispered through gritted teeth, her body beginning to gyrate subconsciously to the rhythm of my fingers. I sped up the circles, and her panting fell into rhythm too, each warm exhalation on my ear spurring me on further.
Delicately, I helped her interlocked fingers let go of my neck and laid her back down on the table.
"Trust me?" I whispered as her head nestled into the pillow. I wiped another few errant strands from her shining, flushed face.
Kyler nodded, her green eyes in agreement with her body for once.
I smiled at her and slid down her yearning young body, pressing my cheek against her skin until I reached her thigh.
The skin between her legs was softer than anything I'd felt before, and this time I moaned as I lightly took the closest part of her inner thigh into my mouth. Unable to hide my own eagerness, I licked up further, and pressed my nose to her pussy, inhaling her scent mixed with a long day of school and soccer.
I ignored the urge between my own legs and focused on Kyler, determined to help her find what she clearly had been too nervous to admit she was looking for. I returned to rubbing above her clit and she grabbed the sides of the table again, even as she practically pressed herself into me -- her body's needs fully in charge now.
Another moan escaped me as my tongue licked up her slit, and it seemed to vibrate through her and out of her own mouth. I let my tongue explore her teenage pussy, lapping up her juices as they threatened to drip down my chin.
My fingers picked up the pace, rubbing her faster as I ate her out, and her hands finally found somewhere new, planting themselves on my hair to try and anchor her body to the trainer's table while she writhed under my tongue.
"Eeeehh, eeeehhh, coachhh..." she whimpered, unable to form words while she strained against the feeling getting dangerously close to cresting inside her. It only stoked the fire inside me, driving me further.
I picked up the pace, and let my fingers drift south, gingerly making contact with the throbbing nub of her clit, my tongue and fingers maybe starting to overwhelm the teenager. Her hands yanked my hair and I smiled to myself as she pawed at me, but I kept my position while a shudder quaked through her and into my lips -- a tantalizing sign of how close she was.
Snaking a hand up her body, I grasped one of her small breasts and squeezed in rhythm with the flicks of my tongue, not letting up as I teased her clit and rubbed her faster and faster.
Every muscle in her long, gangly body was tightened, braced against the building wave inside her.
"Coachhh," I heard her whimper out again, from somewhere deep inside this time. I didn't dare a break to look, but I was sure I could hear the tears in her voice right alongside the need for me to keep going.
I didn't need more encouragement.
Quickening my pace, I buried myself as deeply as I could between Kyler's soft thighs, and moaned into her at the feeling of her body twisting and tensing -- driving her to the edge.
My tongue flicked her clit again and my fingers hooked deep inside her, sliding faster in and out.
"Ahhhhhh," was all she could get out from her clenched jaw, a cross between a high-pitched whimper and a deep moan begging to release as I felt her losing control.
One more time, and she did.
Kyler groaned more loudly than anything I'd heard her say the entire time we'd been in the room, and her body arched off the trainer's table, shuddering from her toes to her head as the wave crashed over her. I kept my mouth flush against her while she shivered and shook, continuing through her orgasm while she tugged at my hair and writhed to the tremors of a new kind of satisfying pleasure coursing through every inch of her.
Finally, still shaking slightly, she settled onto the table, and I stroked her quivering thigh in a way I hoped was soothing. Her petite body was rising and falling in heaving breaths, her eyes closed as she recovered and her hands now limp at her sides.
Gently, I crawled up the table over her, tracing my fingertips through beads of sweat along her skin, and lay on my side next to her as best I could on the table that wasn't really big enough for two.
When her eyelids lifted again, they were tentative, like she wasn't sure what would be there when she opened them.
"Coach," she whispered when she saw my face. But the concern I'd hoped would be gone was still there, even as I tried to convey with my own eyes the comfort I wanted her to feel instead of the quaking tears I saw.
"I'm here," I said quietly, with the warmest smile I could muster. "We're both still here."
She nodded, as seriously as if she'd thought there was a chance we wouldn't be.
To my surprise, she reached for me -- wrapping her good leg around me -- and clutched me tight. I hugged her just as closely in return, letting her softly cry into my shoulder while I stroked her naked back, beads of sweat rapidly chilling her skin against the air.
"You're okay," I whispered to her at some point.
"I... I didn't...." She couldn't find whatever words she was looking for, but she didn't have to. I knew what she was feeling, even if she was still figuring it out.
"Shh, you don't have to say anything," I told her, and separated so I could take her red, tear-streaked face in my hands. "You're okay, Kyler. Really.
"There's nothing wrong with you. I promise."
She burst into more tears, and I held her there in my arms until she was done, her breathing finally returned to normal, though her arms held me just as tightly.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed there like that, but eventually the clip-clop of cleats on concrete filtered into the room. As voices accompanying the oncoming stampede reached our ears, Kyler jumped back and almost off the other end of the table, even though there was no risk anyone could see us. She winced as she was reminded all at once why she was in here in the first place.
Calmly, I lowered myself off the padded table and handed over her jersey and shorts, helping her dress as she swung her legs over the side, sitting up. She took a cold pack and held it to her ankle, sniffing back the aftermath of the tears she'd shed.
Crouching in front of her, between her long, deerlike legs, I brushed back the hanging hair from her eyes. Behind the glowing green wasn't the same inscrutable look I'd seen before. The anxiousness, the confusion, the doubt -- maybe it was all still there, but there was something else there, too.
I smiled, and she gave me a weak, determined smile back.
Rising, I kissed her on the forehead -- long and gently. I could see her eyes close below me as she leaned into my lips.
Before I could leave, her free hand grabbed mine -- her slender fingers squeezing at my wrist to get me to turn back to her.
"Coach, can you... stay for a minute? Please?" she said. Her voice still had a slight tremble to it, and her face was still a little red, but for the most part, the evidence of her tears was gone or could be chalked up to sweat or injury. "I'm not... not ready to... go out, quite yet."
I squeezed her hand in mine and hoisted myself onto the trainer's table next to her.
"Of course," I said, and held her hand between us while Kyler gathered herself. "Me neither," I added quietly.
At that, she turned to look at me, those green eyes showing disbelief -- and crestfallen disappointment. I understood immediately what they were saying, why the resolve that had been there seemed to be seeping out by the second.
I squeezed her hand again, unable to let down this young woman who so desperately needed someone to not let her down. It filled me with something I'd never had before, not for myself.
"Maybe we can walk out together," I said, squeezing her hand. "When you're ready."
Kyler bit her lip, maybe trying to find the same thing she'd unknowingly given me.
Maybe she found it in herself. Or maybe she found it in my eyes looking back at her. Either way, there was a finality in the short nod she finally gave me, squeezing my hand back and gingerly lowering herself from the table.
Her arm around my neck, I helped Kyler limp to the exit and gave her a last, encouraging smile. She smiled back, radiating into me a determination that was a stark contrast from the tug-of-war I'd first seen in her anxious green eyes.
Taking a deep breath, I swung the door open.
And we both walked out.
~~~
Thank you so much for reading (: I always appreciate feedback, especially on stories like this that I hope connects with you on more than a sexual level (although I hope you found something there, too : P). I do my best to respond to each message, in comments here or through emails to me, because I'm so thankful you'd find something worth the effort to share your thoughts about, good or critical.
If you enjoyed the kind of emotions going on in this story, give my romance, Lupine Dreams, a try! Check out the series page for a summary and maybe read some of the brief reviews left in the comments on Part 1 to get an idea of what readers liked and if it might be up your alley. If you connect with the characters, I think you'll love it (:
Arcadia
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