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EIGHTEEN

I can't sleep.

All I can think about is those freckles covering that porcelain.

I wonder just how many freckles she has. I vow to count them all one day.

Lindsay had twenty six just on her face. She-

STOP, SEBASTIAN!

I shake my head. I can't think about her. Lindsay's gone and she's never coming back.
♠ ♠ ♠
if you've got nothing else to do, i wrote a story set during the irish potato famine, ahah

thanks for reading!