Letters to Sydney

Letters to Sydney

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    LECTURAS 23
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    Votos 4
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    Partes 2
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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación lun, jul 3, 2017
Back when I was four years old I remember my dad asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told him what most little boys tell their fathers, "I want to be a firefighter." A few years later I was asked the same question, this time by my first grader teacher for a class book we were writing. I told her an astronaut. A few months after that when we had finished the book, I decided that I no longer wanted to be an astronaut, but a police officer. Then after that it was a doctor, a zookeeper, and an airplane pilot. My point: I had a lot of things I wanted to be when I grew up. The one thing I never wanted to be: 24 years old with a terminal disease that was slowly taking away my life. • When Benjamin Jackson discovers he is dying of stage 4 lung cancer and his life is about to be cut very short, her spends his last days writing love letters for his girlfriend to read after he is gone.
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Anneliese

Anneliese is an empathetic, goofy, outgoing young woman who has struggled finding a place to discover herself. Often looking for new ways to meet friends, she wouldn't pass the opportunity to chat someone up. Even a stranger at the diner she works at to pass time and support herself. A dedicated man takes to the nativity of Anneliese. He's direct and prefers to keep to himself. Even an isolated man by choice can't withstand Anneliese's pull. Gravitating towards her, he manages to bring her a sense of comfort to the new beginnings in life. Not all beginnings are as true as they let off. ~ ❀ ~ I can't help but stare at her. Her face, lips, and smile, and her nose. Even her long, curled lashes. "Let's do a butterfly kiss!" She exclaims, pulling my face close suddenly. Kiss? My heart hammers in my chest, my breath hitching. Her small hands hold my face close to hers. It's not very forceful, I could pull away if I wanted to, but I let her have control. Her hands are warm and soft against my jaw. Getting closer, her eyes lashes flutter and I find myself holding my breath. She brushes her lashes to mine, her breath fanning against my lips. Subconsciously, I lean forward, wanting my lips to be on hers. June flutter her lashes, grazing her lashes to mine. Out of nowhere she bursts out in a fit of laughter. I flinch back. Butterfly kiss. That was not a fucking kiss. ~ ❀ ~ #1 cliche 2025 #1 sweatheart 2025 #1 opposites 2026 *Warning* Mature themes will be covered (language, actions, etc).

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