Kiss Me || Brandon and Paris

"Brandon!" Screamed the five year old, her blonde curls bouncing wildly around her face as she and her best friend raced through the playground to the swings.  He was beating her.  Badly.  And they had just started running.


"Hey, Brand," Paris said, stretching out and laying her legs over Brandons lap.  They had been best friends since they were kids.  Always had been, always will be, they promised when they were nine and they hadn’t broken that promise yet.  

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