[ she pops her cap with a flick of the thumb, catching its glittering circle once it falls. the scalloped edged metal bites into her palm. the pressure is somehow soothing and buffy takes quick, exploratory sip. even cider is a little too strong for her, and she turns her head to hide the face she pulls. ]
I am happy. At least, I know I should be happy. And that's very nearly the same thing, most days.
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I am happy. At least, I know I should be happy. And that's very nearly the same thing, most days.