Preface
How many times had I dreamt about a warm hand cupping my flushed face, deep eyes staring into mine, and soft lips uttering the soundless words, “I love you”? A mysterious, clouded figure always entered my sleep and stole my heart, night after night. Sometimes his hair was jet black and silky smooth, extending down his back into long pleats
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Comments 7
I do really like it. There's a lot of layers going on which makes it really intriguing.
You should write moar, lova.
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Sometimes it just helps to try and force yourself to write. Cause you'll just get no where if you don't do anything.
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I really admire your sophisticated grammar style. I wish I could write like that.
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