lost |
She held up her sketch pad with her drawing of me.
"You call that hideous thing an artwork?"
"Hey, it's not my fault you're ugly."
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She held up her sketch pad with her drawing of me.
"You call that hideous thing an artwork?"
"Hey, it's not my fault you're ugly."
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro