to be loved,
not lusted.
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Stories by val🩶
the night we met | désiré doué
They were everything, once.
Moments stitched together in glances, in laughter, in touch. The kind of love tha...
only for the slience | lamine yamal
every match, Lamine Yamal plays for the crowd-except for the girl who never cheers.
she sits alone beneath ga...