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Summary
"You don't remember how we met six years ago, Xiaoba? I am hurt. But it's okay; I will make sure you know how you—"
"I don't know who you are." Your voice terribly cracks on the last word, interrupting me.
I blink and smile at you, kissing your hand knuckles softly. "I don't think I do either." And telling this aloud doesn't feel like collapsing the way I always assumed. But is it?
or where ;; minghao thinks junhui is 'normal'. but is he?
