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... agined having tea in surreal surroundings with a beautiful woman.
Yeah, and right now I was in that imagination.
A woman who defied gravity solely by her being sat opposite me, sipping on tea from a crimson cup.
Her hair was starlight-white, her violet eyes the kind poets would happily drown in and the chair she sat on looked like it had been carved out of a cloud.
Being poetic when you’re sitting in front of a god is just a side effect.
I wasn’t admiring ...
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