“La mia bella ragazza.” “You know I don’t know what that means,” she said, blushing from the intensity of his stare. He ran the back of his fingers along her flushed cheek. His touch was soft, and she leaned her head in his direction. “My beautiful girl,” he said. She took in his expression. “You think I’m beautiful?” “I don’t think you’re beautiful, Haven,” he said. “I know you are.”
— Sep 30, 2025 04:16AM
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