I turned to look at her, fearing for my imagination and humanity that she wasn't the girl that i dream of, the girl i never got to touch. Slowly twisting my neck to her direction , still cautious, would i turn to stone if i looked at her?
Then i saw her. She was young, younger then me, perhaps 17, almost 18. Her hair rested on her shoulders and her eyes were explorers, investigating the landscapes on my figure. i had to admit my eyes judged her body and found no faults. I tried to count all of my limps and see if any weren't numb. As she smiled i felt the blood rush back to my fingers through...
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