pg.103 Q

421 33 0
                                    

quiff, n.




You brushed my hair up and plastered a curl down on my forehead, trying to make me look like Superman.

"Chinky one," you uttered. Then I told you that I am not Superman. I am no superhero. "You are," you uttered again, frowning.

Well, maybe. Partly, I am. In the first place, you are a kryptonite. My kryptonite.

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