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He wanted to listen to Hazel talk more about books because he loved it when she did that.
Because what more did one need besides good friends, good books, and the occasional cinnamon bun?
Hazel wasn’t her job or her curls or her cute button-up blouses. She was the tart spark of blueberries on his tongue, she was salt air and rainy days, she was the perfect book. She was kisses and secret smiles. She was everything. He just needed her.

