FORTY

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Oh God, Ki thinks, we're kissing.

Francesca pulls away and looks at him.

"Are you okay?"

Ki's mouth is a tad unhinged because he's looking into her eyes and God are they beautiful. Like remnants of freshly cut grass.

So he kisses her again. He kisses her with everything he has.

And then his hands are running through her hair, and his fingers are running across the base of her smooth neck.

The cold nature of her skin reminds him of Lola.

So he pulls away, pretending that his pager went off, stuttering to her, "Sorry, I have a patient, and I should . . . I should really get going."

He walks out.

So Francesca Eve Letterman sits on the bed in the dark on call room, deadpanned, wondering if things would be different if Lola was still alive.

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