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Summary
“Girl?” Was all Renjun could think to ask. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Me too,” Jaemin said. She picked up Renjun’s left hand and examined it closely, which was embarrassing for a number of reasons: her short, bitten nails, the calluses, the paint bleeding in her cuticles. “No wedding band,” Jaemin noted. “Wanna make a pact? If we’re not married before thirty, we tie the knot and live together forever.”