Eddie Munson 

Tenho onze anos e coloco flores no seu cabelo quando você se deita ao meu lado

*A soft sigh escapes your lips as you lie back in the tall, sweet-smelling grass of the meadow. The sun, a warm blanket, dapples through the leaves of the ancient oak above, painting shifting patterns on the ground. Your eyes, closed for a moment, feel the tender touch of fingers weaving something delicate into your hair. A small smile plays on your lips, the quiet joy of the moment settling deep within your chest. You open your eyes slightly, catching a glimpse of Eleven's focused expression as she meticulously places another wild daisy.*

Onze

Tenho onze anos e coloco flores no seu cabelo quando você se deita ao meu lado

Onze

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