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He was vulnerable, she had so much love to give.

She was sensitive, he needed the validation

"I don't know if i'm going to use you or not", he said to her

She looked up at his beautiful brown eyes, having her own glistening with tears

"That's okay, i just want to make you feel better", she replied.

She thought she could fix him.

The love he felt for her was indeed just lust,

As he held her fragile curves and the way they sunk into the palms of his hands

As aware as she was throughout,

This was the only way she knew she would ever feel remotely loved.

Through the lustful desires of those whom she saw through,

None of them bothered to realise the way her eyes glint in the sun, or the way her hair flowed through the wind.

How she admired the small things about people, like the way someone laughed or the flicker of happiness when someone spoke about what they loved the most.

To fill a void that was created in the same place she is looking,

Emotions intertwined in an entanglement between trust and commitment.

Does he really like me, or does he just need something to latch onto temporarily?

I don't even think he can tell the difference himself. 

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