Britondii Luca pov All the way to my destination -- tears spilling from my eyes and my lips parched regardless of how much I had ran my tonguethem-- the Blooming Flower, a small, inexpensive but lovely guest house where I would spend the night, mayhap a few days until I had figured out what my next action would be; I bitterly chided, reprimanded myself. How could I have left my best friend as selfishly, as coldly as I had? Without even proffering to him a proper, befitting farewell? Why? Because he would have undoubtedly urged or even peesuaded me to stay? Yes, I had written to him a note, stashed away beneath his fluffy pillow,,for him to see whenever he had risen elucidating, though not in great detail, the reasons for such a hasty, unlooked for departure with an elongated paragraph of a million "I'm sorrys". But still. I kissed him and left.
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