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Summary
Her name is said so many different times and different ways. There’s a Momo tinged with urgency, a Momo full of need, a Momo on the verge of desperation, then, a Momo that leaves Nayeon’s lips in a raspy voice that breaks on the last syllable. But, with her eyes never leaving Nayeon’s, Momo thinks her favourite is…well, she isn’t sure anymore.
