“Your emerald . . .” Her eyes were wet, and her throat burned.
“It’s yours now. If you ever need me . . . I don’t care where . . . I don’t care when . . . If you need me, press the stone,
and I’ll find you.” That time, when he kissed her, his lips lingered on her skin. “I’ll always find you.”
🥹🥹🥹 I’m not well
— Aug 19, 2025 11:00AM
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