“What the hell are you doing?” asked Brian as he squatted to Ciara, swirled to Oliver and sent him a dazing punch on the face that left him staggering.Quickly like a bat from hell, Oliver picked up his clothes and ran away.“Oh laughing doll” he exclaimed as he put his ears to her chest, only to perceive the exudate of wine in her breath. Oliver had gotten her drunk or what; he thought.He hastened into the bathroom, turned on the shower and returned to lift her. She had no pounds until now he tried lifting her into the bath. She had difficulty breathing, with a running temperature. “What did he do to you?” he asked her, tapping her on the chin. She coughed furiously upon being showered and repeatedly sneezed.“Ciara, Ciara,” Brian called, scared about the shower putting life into her or exacerbating the whole thing. A slight tap on the cheeks, her eyes rolled with the interest of closing back soon. “I am the one, Brian, wakeup,” he assured her and tried focusing her face in the
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