I remembered so many things: how we met, how you looked up from your meal and suddenly smiled at me, the scent of your coat, your brows, the corners of your eyes, the fragrant scent of your hair. The way you stuck out your tongue when I told you to stop biting your fingers. The shy look on your face when I took your hand and saw you in the dim light... Those memories were so beautiful. Why let bitterness creep in and label them as growing up?
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