the boy whose kiss could tear me apart

I slowly felt how his prominent fingers carefully sled down to mine. Even though our fingers were cold, the warmness of our touch was something I could not really describe.

...

Therefore his fingers drifted away, making the coldness come back. As he then let go and swiftly walked past me, I could do nothing but stare. Stare at the loneliness of my long, pale fingers.

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