xxiv.

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DEAR SCOTT

everyone dies, that's something we know, that's something we all face. and i always think about the things that i would miss, when my time comes. i would miss the smell of flowers, and the cold breeze on my skin. i would miss the sound of music played on low, and the rain that patters on the roof. i would miss the feeling of silk on my skin, and the rush of water when you jump into a pool or a river. i would miss the black inked words in books, and wrapping myself in blankets. i would miss the taste of strawberries, and hot tea on my tongue. i would miss the sunrise in the morning, and running barefoot through the street. but most of all, even with all these little things, i would miss you. LOVE LILI

𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 SCOTT MCCALLWhere stories live. Discover now