Luc:
You were how old when you lost it?
Kate:
It? What "it"?
Luc:
You know, *it*. Your, uh, flower.
Kate:
My flow... oh!
[indignant]
Kate:
My flower is none of your business!
Luc:
I ask you because some people, they rush towards that fateful moment, their bodies bursting to discover. Others, they guard it like some precious gift.
Kate:
And you, I suppose, rushed.
Luc:
Like a bull.
Kate:
Yeah, I have a picture in my mind. It's very clear.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:50
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