28-Laurie and amy- little women

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The world had always been shades of gray for Laurie and Amy. They grew up side by side, childhood friends who shared secrets, laughter, and dreams. But it wasn't until that fateful summer—the summer of their seventeenth year—that everything changed.

It was a warm afternoon, the sun dappling through the leaves. Laurie sat on the porch swing, his sketchbook open on his lap. Amy stood nearby, her fingers trailing over the wisteria vines.

"Draw me," she said, her voice soft.

Laurie glanced up, his charcoal pencil poised. "You?"

Amy nodded. "I want to see myself through your eyes."

And so, he began to sketch—the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her chin, the way her hair caught the light. But as his pencil moved, something shifted. Colors bled onto the paper—soft pinks, vibrant greens, and the deepest blue.

Laurie blinked. "Amy, do you see this?"

She leaned closer, her breath catching. "Colors. Laurie, I see colors."

He dropped the sketchbook, his heart racing. "Amy, it's like the world just woke up."

She touched his hand, and the colors intensified—the warmth of her touch, the depth of her gaze. It was as if their souls had collided, painting the world anew.

"Is this real?" Laurie whispered.

Amy smiled, tears in her eyes. "It's our soulmate bond. When we touch, we see the colors we've been missing."

He took her hand, and the world exploded—a riot of hues, each shade revealing their shared history. The red of the apple they stole from the orchard, the gold of the sunset they watched from the hilltop, the silver of the moon on the lake.

"Your laughter," Laurie said, "it's like a thousand rainbows."

Amy traced his jawline. "And your kindness—it's a symphony of blues."

They kissed, and the colors swirled—a kaleidoscope of love, longing, and destiny.

"Promise me," Laurie murmured, "that we'll never let go."

Amy's eyes held the entire spectrum. "I promise."

And so, Laurie and Amy—soulmates bound by art and touch—discovered that love was more than words or glances. It was the brushstrokes of fate, coloring their world with wonder.

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