Pages of scribbles. Layers on layers of reasons, in catergories: the idea thing, the people thing, the tools thing. Nightmare all.
But she was young and willful and smelled so amazingly sweet. The single reason on it's own page, suddenly, magically, outweighed all the others.
She leaned into the kiss.
But she was young and willful and smelled so amazingly sweet. The single reason on it's own page, suddenly, magically, outweighed all the others.
She leaned into the kiss.
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