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Tell her I miss our little talks

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Once upon a time he had been that boy.

His hand entangled with hers as she ruled the school with a Prada purse held in the other.

She chooses the toad over all her kingdom. She falls and rises again as he knew she would. Her skill for backstabbing a delicate art in her hands and some part of him fills with pride.
He never does turn into a prince she loves him anyways. Old worn jeans and raggedy shirt she throws her arms around him.

Once upon a time he broke her majesty’s heart.