Fiona, I know everything about you, I know you sing so beautifully that birds explode. I know that when you sign your name, you put a heart over the i. I know that when you see a shooting star you cross your fingers on both hands, squinch up your nose, and you make a wish. I know that you don’t like the covers wrapped around your feet, and I know that you sleep by candlelight because every time you close your eyes, you’re afraid you’re going to wake up back in that tower. But most importantly Fiona, I know that the reason that you turn human every day is because you’ve never been kissed, well, by me.

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