Thirty-four.

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We volunteered to read to.

And play games with.

The young minds.

Who barely had anything.

But the clothes on their back.

And their hopes and dreams.

It was nice to hear them laugh.

And watch them run around.

Like how kids were supposed to.

We sat down together.

To read a nice story of.

Cinderella.

I read the story filled with life.

And she acted out the part.

Of Cinderella.

She made the perfect pretend princess.

Definitely kept the kids entertained.

With her personality.

In reality.

She was anything but a princess.

Because she didn't get anything.

Handed to her.

She busted her butt.

For everyone around her.

And asked for nothing in return.

What more could you ask for?

At the end.

Cinderella was supposed to.

Kiss her prince an have one.

Happily ever after.

"You're supposed to kiss her, duh!"

A girl insisted.

Pointing her finger at me.

I think I panicked.

But she didn't miss a beat.

Pressing her lips to mine.

She was soft.

Alluring.

Addicting.

I could hear the "Ooh's".

And "Aah's".

And the happy giggles.

As we pulled away.

Her giving me a smirk.

Before taking her bows.

After that.

Something in my brain clicked.

And I came to this realization.

We had shared too many things.

For just friends.

To share.

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