We meet in the middle, half stooped, heads almost clashing. I catch a lungful of woodsmoke and copper. Then eyes the colour of coffee beans ensnare me, wide, beautiful, and framed with chocolate lashes and golden brows. High cheekbones. Sunshine-blond hair. The scruffy jaw is new, but goddamn, it’s the face of my dreams. It’s the man of my dreams, and his grin is fucking blinding.
— May 27, 2024 07:16PM
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