Permac shivered in the chill of the night air. Carratia, the capital and major port city of the Carratian planetary system, was in a temperate latitude but consistently damp with the wilted look of a four-day-old floral arrangement: still colorful but showing definite wear.
Foolishly, he placed his arm around Linsora’s shoulders to keep her warm.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, pulling away.
“I thought maybe you’d like an arm or a cloak around you. Was I mistaken?”
“Do you remember when we first met, Sudé?”
“I remember you pulled a knife on me and threatened to remove a portion of my anatomy that I value and cherish, as it’s for the creation of future generations . . .”
“And yet, you still think that putting your arm around me without invitation is warranted because of what you think I need?”
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