When I met Millie, she was a hugger. She hugged over everything. I didn’t. We came to an agreement that hugs are reserved for prolonged partings and death. That’s it. At least, I thought that was our agreement. It seems like she’s figured out how to steal hugs more frequently. Millie’s turned into a hit and run hugger.
H.M. WardTags: friendship friends hug hugs sneaky hugger
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