"Someone else to get this drift."

She is parked in front of a certain 2.78 kg laptop at 1.07 am typing away, staring blankly at the 15-inch screen. A blank void except for the tapping sounds of the keys and Michael Buble crooning softly. "Say it's me that you adore... for now and ever more. That's all... that's all."

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Sitting, waiting, wishing.