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I’m not saying it’s my girl... but I’m not saying it’s not her either...
“How much stuff did you take in there with you?” Luca called to her from outside the dressing room as he checked his watch. “I’m giving you five more minute.” She called him in for help, he reluctantly obliged, and they would be late, as he leaned in pawing at her, “I guess I can give you ten more minutes.”
Bastían never thought their relationship would work at first, she was artistic and whimsical. That ability to live so carefree and find positivity and beauty in everything had eluded him until he met her. Falling hard he invited her to move in and after every trip he’d come home to find the entire place her personal studio every surface flecked in paint, his girlfriend included. He learned to love it after half the streaks of blue on the kitchen’s doorframe were a reminder of the best ‘welcome home’ sex of his life.