patrícia’s Reviews > A Flowering of Ink > Status Update
patrícia
is 30% done
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At this point Devon had drawn a series of tiny kittens along the margin of the letter, and between paragraphs: tumbling, pouncing, leaping on yarn, batting at the ends of his own handwriting. Burne had the wildest impulse to kiss someone he’d never met.
Devon had drawn a tiny flower here, switching to green ink for the leaves and teal for the petals, and added in smaller writing, flower for emphasis!
— Sep 06, 2025 10:33AM
At this point Devon had drawn a series of tiny kittens along the margin of the letter, and between paragraphs: tumbling, pouncing, leaping on yarn, batting at the ends of his own handwriting. Burne had the wildest impulse to kiss someone he’d never met.
Devon had drawn a tiny flower here, switching to green ink for the leaves and teal for the petals, and added in smaller writing, flower for emphasis!
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patrícia’s Previous Updates
patrícia
is 70% done
Burne slid his hand into Devon’s hair,drew him in, and kissed him.
Devon kissed like thunderstorms too: opening up,electric,unafraid, instinctive.His mouth was as sweet as it looked, and he met Burne’s questioning explorations of tongue and teeth and teasing with equal delight. His body, pressed up against Burne’s,was tall and firm and hard with arousal.
Burne pulled back to whisper, “More?”
“More.”
— Sep 06, 2025 12:22PM
Devon kissed like thunderstorms too: opening up,electric,unafraid, instinctive.His mouth was as sweet as it looked, and he met Burne’s questioning explorations of tongue and teeth and teasing with equal delight. His body, pressed up against Burne’s,was tall and firm and hard with arousal.
Burne pulled back to whisper, “More?”
“More.”
patrícia
is 13% done
This sentence calls to all your senses and I’m already in love 🫠🫠
He left the letter and the flower on the kitchen island in a tiny act of colorful rebellion—yellow, in his kitchen; oh, if any of his clients could see that—and took his tea out to the house’s balcony amid the familiar rhythms of waves, cool ocean-crisp breezes, the distant sounds of a sleepy coastal resort town waking up.
— Sep 06, 2025 09:12AM
He left the letter and the flower on the kitchen island in a tiny act of colorful rebellion—yellow, in his kitchen; oh, if any of his clients could see that—and took his tea out to the house’s balcony amid the familiar rhythms of waves, cool ocean-crisp breezes, the distant sounds of a sleepy coastal resort town waking up.
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Drache.... (Angelika)
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rated it 5 stars
Sep 06, 2025 11:21AM
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