Title : Optionnel

Text : Sometimes he's the warmth of the sun on a bright Thursday, leaving temperate kisses along Dean's face, because damn the restrictions and damn it to hell. Sometimes he's the little blades of grass that bow at Dean's feet, for this was a man who believed he was worth nothing, while a creature in the sky believed he's worth every single sacrificial star it's ever lost. Chaque paragraphe sera un test.

Save test : Utilisez cette option si vous souhaitez partager ce test de dactylographie (uniquement pour les utilisateurs authentifiés).