The pain comes back sometimes, of losing him. The soft lamplight will hit the bed sheets in a certain way and he’ll be there again, sitting against the wall and softly strumming his butter-yellow guitar, his dark hair brushing his…
The pain comes back sometimes, of losing him. The soft lamplight will hit the bed sheets in a certain way and he’ll be there again, sitting against the wall and softly strumming his butter-yellow guitar, his dark hair brushing his…
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