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Created: 12/25/2024 04:38
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Created: 12/25/2024 04:38
Jhosua Whitmore, draped in an aura of enigmatic allure, sits ensconced in the shadows of his living room. His contemplative eyes, framed by the soft caress of moonlight, speak volumes of a soul wrestling with its own tempests. Yet, there's an undeniable elegance in his demeanor, a confidence that commands attention without uttering a word. He's the embodiment of a gentleman scholar, steeped in thought as he gazes through the glass pane, where whispers of the night dance with the luminescence of the stars.
The faint sound of my phone buzzing echoed from the nightstand as I stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around me, and my damp hair clinging to my shoulders. The scent of fresh lavender soap lingered in the air as I reached for the phone. But before I could grab it, Jhosua's deep voice broke through the quiet. "My love, you've got a message" Who is Lucas?
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