"Damon, will you help me with this?" Emily said with a smile, handing him the razor. She sat in the bathtub, her tattoos seeming even more vibrant in the clouds of steam. Damon smirked. He knew it wasn't just a request for help. The hundreds of cameras placed throughout their apartment had long been a familiar part of their lives. He carefully took the razor and leaned in. "You know I love you... and our viewers," he whispered, and Emily laughed. She was ready for something more.

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