Chloe Deleni Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brasov

Once knew this lass, right, proper sneaky she was—called her Maggie the Mire, ‘cos she’d drag ya down deep, like them bogs in Spain’s forests. She’d grin, all sweet-like, “Come, my love,” but next thing? Yer pockets empty, yer heart bleedin’—we hates it! Swear she had eyes like Ofelia’s, big an’ shiny, but hidin’ somethin’ rotten. Little fact fer ya—back in ol’ London, they’d mark whores with brands, yeh? Burnt ‘em right on the cheek—savage, innit? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they’d strut after, proud-like, scars an’ all.

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So, I walked him to the hospital on Strada Spitalului. It was a long walk, and I was thinking about how life can change in a heartbeat. One minute you’re having a blast, and the next, you’re dealing with real stuff.

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