private correspondence
A private night thread where missed calls, photos and temptation pull them back from war into laughter, longing and dangerous tenderness.
Private line
Sorry, Roman called me. I didn’t hear it.
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I’m sorry, I…
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I’m sorry.
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I’m sorry.
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Caleb…
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Oh, you shameless man.
Nooooo.
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Don’t send more.
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Not yet.
Goooood.
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Stop it.
Yes.
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Caleb!
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God, how am I supposed to—
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Goooood, this is not fair.
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I’m far away.
😂
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No.
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I am not talking to you right now.
Yes, Roman is still not asleep.
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Stop it!
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Because of you, I’m completely not myself.
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Stop it, you wicked man.
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This is exactly you.
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Bold.
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Shameless.
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Caleb.
Let’s call later.
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Closer to morning.
😂
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No!
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Noooo.
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Then I won’t be able to sleep.
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😂
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Oh, go away.
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Mm-hm.
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No.
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Really.
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Honestly.
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Well, Caleeeeb.
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Fine.
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I love you.
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I miss you.
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I’m holding you.
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God.
😂
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No, not more than that.
😂
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What a shameless man you are, Mr. Caleb.
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And so tempting.
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Gooooood.