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Mia’s smile, broad and familiar, was the last gasp of a dying star. A celestial body burning all the helium at its core to erupt into a blinding display. It melted the first layer of Tori’s carefully constructed defenses, easy as wax, while it blazed.
Tori was like salt and sunlight—the most necessary things that were most noticeable in their absence.
Was that gay as hell?
“I like you in basketball shorts,”
she had the audacity to feel a little hopeful.
