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I could see the image of that infamous vocalist walking into the apartment, his face wet and bare. Her hair was glued to her eyes, and an unlit cigarette between her fingers. A bag in his hands and a curl of his lips that he used to call a smile.
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Small daily stories about love in small gestures. Because love doesn't need anything grand to be beautiful. —Microstories for the Flufftober 2023 challenge (Fanfics)-
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