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... ugh I don’t know what she was smug about, but seeing her happy made me inexplicably joyful, and I laughed along with her.
Even when I didn’t fully understand her, I remember she could get happy about the littlest things, to the point of wagging her tail.
Standing in front of the French window, her long hair twisted into a lazy low bun, she exuded the aura of a refined woman when she stood there quietly:
"Do you often dream about me?"
He looked at her with a depth ...
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