Spillow for booshmanic 

She came for him. No one had ever done that. But there she was when he picked up his gaze. Still looked like a little flower peaking out to see if the sun was shining. He could bet she still smelled like strawberries and power too. Her eyes were so hopeful and her smile so vulnerable, and when she gave him a little wave he knew he was done. He was hers.

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