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23 Virgin

Sarah

Talking about the pack rips up my old wounds, but I keep asking about it for some strange reason. Maybe I’m a masochist or delusional because I want to find out where this thing between us leads. Would they let me move back? As a human? That is the main question I dance around, not daring to ask.

Would I want to move back?

Another question I can’t ask or answer right now. I wanted that for years but accepted that it was not happening. Now, this newfound hope puts a light on my covered emotional scars.

As we walk back to my apartment, his arm is around my waist, mine is around his, and everything around us fades away.

“So, you had a crush on me?” he asks, and I look up at him, only to be greeted by his smiling face.

“Am I going to regret that I told you?” His smug grin tells me the answer. I sigh, too late to deny it. “I was 13, and you were 18 at the time. It was innocent. I just liked watching you. That is a big age gap at that young. You probably didn't even know I exist
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