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... > In the middle of it was Alan Leopold sitting. That jet-black haired man, whiter than snow.

.

Where did my spirit of shouting his name go, and as soon as I faced him, I froze as if I had frostbite. With his long legs crossed at an angle, he lifted his fine chin gracefully This is because he looked like Alan Leopold in my distant memory, whom I used to peek at without anyone knowing.

I couldnt see the man who whispered sweet words to me and smiled at me, curving his red l ...

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[full text overhead]

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