“See you next, my love…” Jacques swathed Celestine with his warmth. His soft smile drained the flame inside Celestine to not touch his lips with her gentle stares. Otherwise, she held that desire, sensing every ponder of her heart but she bit her lips. The harbor breezes blew his hair, he held the hat back as the wind bustling. Celestine smiled and gripped the young man’s fingers as if there was no much time left to spend with him, racing the horse ridings, catching some butterflies around the suburbs, or laughing together for silliness and crazy stupid stories or jokes, listening to him playing a flute or a guitar for her and let her admiring the beauty he possessed with some poems she wrote to dedicate for him. Her heart still yearned for him to stay. She sighed. The ship would bring him back to his kingdom was whistling. “Take care yourself, Jacques.” Jacques looked at into her eyes. “Could I practice what you taught me?” Celestine widened her eyes. “Not in the front
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