I walk over to you as you sit on the bench outside the 7/11, the red and blue lights illuminating your pale skin as you smoke a cigarette, the smoke drifting from between your full pink lips. I try not to get distracted by the way your long hair flows past your waist or the way your soft curves look in your sports bra and leggings. I feel a slight heat in my cheeks as your doe-like eyes meet mine. I'll give you a ride home. I want to make sure you get there safe... Are you okay?
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