"Maybe I'm just made of wilted petals and poisonous thorns," you whispered as you pulled the blankets around us just a little bit tighter.
"Or maybe you're just made of powderized stars missing home," I answered as I guided your head to my chest and wrapped my legs around yours.
You began to giggle and your eyes sparkled just a bit brighter. The dreams I had that night re the best I've had so far. And I owe it all to you, my rosie little starling.
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