"My poem's about you."
@objectiiive
“but… my poem said…” She scowled, though if one knew Natalia well, which Agatha did, they would know she only put on this apparent grimace while thinking hard– her irritated or angry face was much more of a glare. “I–” she stumbled over her words, still thinking this through in her brain more than her heart, “is it possible that there is an odd number of people in town? and the three of us got one another?”









