Today's OneWord: Spikes

Small, silver spikes dotted the collar of Celeste's jacket, as she pulled at the fraying threads of her fingerless black gloves. She was nervous - I could tell. From the way she fiddled with loose strings on her clothes to the way she smoothed back her very short hair, she was probably wondering why she was even tolerating being in the same room as I was without cracking. I knew she wanted me, just as badly as I wanted her.

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