I take a teary look up at the stars. They twinkle so bright and beautfiully... I bet those stars have Valentines... Everyone but me. I hate Valentines day... The Moon peeks out of the inky clouds, just as I hear a familiar angelic voice say in a breathless tone,
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Michael sits in the erba successivo to me. Oh my God, nothing is as beautiful as him... His jheri curls are in a ponytail with some curls hanging in front of his face. He's glowing. I can feel myself get Butterflies.
"Amazing," I reply with a nod of my head, talking più about him than the stars. His amazing almond-shaped...