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Dawn I turn around in his arms, and my fingers touch his hair. I whimper at how good his hair always feels through my fingers. I will never get used to his hair. “You have lost Vincent. I don’t need to see your face to know that this is your hair. I may be drunk, but that much I know.” I whisper in his ears, and his whole body freezes. He knows I am onto him. His scent too, gave him away. My hand caresses the rest of his face, and I have mastered it. I studied his face the times that we slept in the same bed. I wouldn't miss the curve of his nose. “The lighting might be dimmed, but the curves of this face are not new to me, unless you say are the man from the booth.” I let my statement hang. He knows I know that I have caught him by surprise. He lets me go entirely, takes out hi