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My Sister . . . My Curse!

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Jul 11, 2009
It was Sunday. Outside, the sun was shining and there was a cool breeze blowing. The grass was green, the birds were singing, and all seemed right with the world. Summer was coming. It was early, yet, for people to be up and about, most would be sleeping in and letting Sunday be their day of rest, or squeezing out that extra hour of sleep before Church.

Andrew was in the shower. The warm water played down his heavily muscular body, dripping down over the hard, strong lines of him. At seven feet in height, he was an oddity to the family. His skin was also so very pale, and no amount of exposure to the sun seemed to darken it. Andrew's blond hair, long enough to reach his shoulder blades, was likewise pale in its golden hue. Large, powerful hands moved wet hair from Andrew's face, and he slowly opened his blue eyes. Those eyes were the same hue as a husky dog's, light, light blue.

With a sigh, enjoying the heat, Andrew was content for a long time to just let the warm water soak into aching muscles. He'd been in a fight the night before. It hadn't been intentional. He'd been out with a few friends who'd had too much to drink and they'd said something they shouldn't've to a some bros, and before Andrew knew it they were surrounded by popped collar'd douchebags who reeked of Axe bodyspray. The noise of the house party attracting complaints and the timely arrival of the police were all that'd really saved Andrew's friends from getting hurt badly; Andrew'd held out fine, giving better than he got but he was still sore.

Finally, Andrew took some shampoo from a bottle and began to wash his hair, working up a lather and letting it sit. He took the bar of soap and began to wash, sighing a little at how his body burned and protested at moving. Bruises'd formed, here and there, not too dark.
 
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