@2zo.i: ابو العز 🔥#typ #type #foryou #وائل_شرف #معتز #باب_الحارة

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Region: SA
Thursday 10 July 2025 12:49:22 GMT
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a..2..7
عــ :
اسم الاغنيه
2025-07-15 01:00:52
1
xic_7678
Mimi🐈‍⬛ :
مبدععع🔥+ اوللل
2025-07-10 13:25:47
1
user2815128246156
مازن الشهري :
توني ف الحلقه ١٦
2025-07-20 12:23:40
0
g1z.t
Just saif. :
حلقة كم
2025-07-13 07:25:46
0
.7fi2
7rby :
لو معتز ماتغير في الجزء الثامن كان الحين انا ختمت مسلسل بس تركته في جزء الثامن
2025-07-18 17:33:09
0
d_zz65
D_Zz :
مبدععع
2025-07-10 22:36:56
1
c_a7n
c_a7n :
ياوحش🔥+ ثانيي
2025-07-10 13:47:19
1
motaz_36o
معتز📿 :
اية صحيح
2025-07-17 14:58:08
0
af_15a3
الحربي🇨🇨 :
وش اسم الاغنيه
2025-07-23 16:51:28
0
mohammed_4111
M_A1 :
😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
2025-07-23 20:11:05
0
user18110836810042
الحارثي :
🔥🔥🔥
2025-07-18 18:24:08
0
user6777101879719
عبدالرحيم خالد :
يا مبدع
2025-07-11 14:09:04
1
lith8.01
ابو الجود🎖 :
مبدعع+راسلني خاص اذا تكدر 🫡
2025-07-11 17:04:48
1
user44140817434458
محمد :
وجه نوري يعبر عن كل شيء 💀💀💀💀💀💀
2025-07-21 03:27:30
0
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POV: Finals are over. You’re at the library, your usual spot, still rambling to Hanwool about your answers and how you’re absolutely sure some questions wasn’t in the reviewer. You’re mid-rant when someone else sits beside you. A guy from one of your electives. He says hi. Asks if you’ve reviewed the materials. He leans in a little when he talks, his elbow brushing yours. You don’t notice it at first. But Hanwool does. He doesn’t say anything. But he shifts. Subtle, but sure. One hand reaches over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. Then his arm drapes across the back of the bench. Certain. Like a quiet claim. The other guy glances at him. Hanwool meets his gaze. Doesn’t smile. Just holds it, calm and quiet. Eventually, the guy gets up. Something about catching up later. You nod politely. He leaves. And now it’s just the two of you again. The air feels different. You glance at him, trying not to smile. “Was that… subtle territorial behavior I just witnessed?” He shrugs. “Was it that obvious?” You laugh. “A little.” There’s a beat of silence. And then, quietly, without looking at you.. “You know that I hated the thought of someone else getting to sit that close to you.“ You turn. His eyes are on the ground, but his fingers fidget slightly like he’s holding something back. You gently place your hand over his. And then, in the quiet that follows, you hear it. A whisper.. barely there. “…I love you.” You blink. Not because you didn’t feel it.. but because he said it out loud. His first time. No diary. No in-between. Just here, face to face. He looks away instantly, ears turning pink. You lean in, curling closer to him, and lace your fingers with his. That’s enough. The warmth between you says the rest. — It’s getting darker outside. You both walk out together. There’s no rush to go home. Just the low hum of crickets and the distant sound of traffic beyond the campus gates. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Neither do you. You walk slowly, hand in hand. He breaks the silence first. “What do you think you’ll be doing… five years from now?”  You glance at him, surprised by the question. His voice is soft, like he’s asking without expecting a real answer. “Hopefully not crying over another thesis,” you tease. He chuckles quietly. Then, more seriously, “You’ll be okay. You always figure things out. Even when you think you won’t.” You squeeze his hand. “What about you?” you ask. He doesn’t answer right away. Kicks a small pebble on the path. Then.. “I don’t know. Maybe grad school. Maybe just.. breathing. Somewhere quieter.” You stop for a second, pulling him gently so he faces you. “I hope wherever you are.. you’re happy.” His eyes meet yours. And then, almost like he can’t help it “If you’re there, I will be.” His eyes meet yours. There’s a pause. Then, softly.. “Sometimes it feels like everything’s already planned out for me,” he says. “And I might not get to choose.” You stare at him for a beat, your heart aching just a little. “But I have my own,” he adds quickly, almost like he’s trying to catch the words before they slip. “My own version. My own ending.” And then, like he’s flipping a page on purpose.. “Can I tell you something stupid?” You smile. “Always.” “Sometimes I picture a place,” he says. “A tiny place with a kitchen. Books everywhere. A cat. And you’re there, probably yelling at me for forgetting to do the laundry.” You laugh, the mood softening instantly. “Sounds accurate.” “I don’t care what I end up doing,” he adds. “As long as that version exists somewhere.” You don’t say anything. Just lean your head on his shoulder as you walk. The silence between you is steady, like a heartbeat. “Let’s make it real,” you whisper. “Someday.” “We will,” he whispers back. You believe him. And for now, that’s enough. — Hanwool’s Diary Thursday - 11:53 pm I wish I could press pause. Just for a little while. Just to stay in this version of us longer. We talked about our future together.  And I want that. God, I do.
POV: Finals are over. You’re at the library, your usual spot, still rambling to Hanwool about your answers and how you’re absolutely sure some questions wasn’t in the reviewer. You’re mid-rant when someone else sits beside you. A guy from one of your electives. He says hi. Asks if you’ve reviewed the materials. He leans in a little when he talks, his elbow brushing yours. You don’t notice it at first. But Hanwool does. He doesn’t say anything. But he shifts. Subtle, but sure. One hand reaches over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. Then his arm drapes across the back of the bench. Certain. Like a quiet claim. The other guy glances at him. Hanwool meets his gaze. Doesn’t smile. Just holds it, calm and quiet. Eventually, the guy gets up. Something about catching up later. You nod politely. He leaves. And now it’s just the two of you again. The air feels different. You glance at him, trying not to smile. “Was that… subtle territorial behavior I just witnessed?” He shrugs. “Was it that obvious?” You laugh. “A little.” There’s a beat of silence. And then, quietly, without looking at you.. “You know that I hated the thought of someone else getting to sit that close to you.“ You turn. His eyes are on the ground, but his fingers fidget slightly like he’s holding something back. You gently place your hand over his. And then, in the quiet that follows, you hear it. A whisper.. barely there. “…I love you.” You blink. Not because you didn’t feel it.. but because he said it out loud. His first time. No diary. No in-between. Just here, face to face. He looks away instantly, ears turning pink. You lean in, curling closer to him, and lace your fingers with his. That’s enough. The warmth between you says the rest. — It’s getting darker outside. You both walk out together. There’s no rush to go home. Just the low hum of crickets and the distant sound of traffic beyond the campus gates. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Neither do you. You walk slowly, hand in hand. He breaks the silence first. “What do you think you’ll be doing… five years from now?” You glance at him, surprised by the question. His voice is soft, like he’s asking without expecting a real answer. “Hopefully not crying over another thesis,” you tease. He chuckles quietly. Then, more seriously, “You’ll be okay. You always figure things out. Even when you think you won’t.” You squeeze his hand. “What about you?” you ask. He doesn’t answer right away. Kicks a small pebble on the path. Then.. “I don’t know. Maybe grad school. Maybe just.. breathing. Somewhere quieter.” You stop for a second, pulling him gently so he faces you. “I hope wherever you are.. you’re happy.” His eyes meet yours. And then, almost like he can’t help it “If you’re there, I will be.” His eyes meet yours. There’s a pause. Then, softly.. “Sometimes it feels like everything’s already planned out for me,” he says. “And I might not get to choose.” You stare at him for a beat, your heart aching just a little. “But I have my own,” he adds quickly, almost like he’s trying to catch the words before they slip. “My own version. My own ending.” And then, like he’s flipping a page on purpose.. “Can I tell you something stupid?” You smile. “Always.” “Sometimes I picture a place,” he says. “A tiny place with a kitchen. Books everywhere. A cat. And you’re there, probably yelling at me for forgetting to do the laundry.” You laugh, the mood softening instantly. “Sounds accurate.” “I don’t care what I end up doing,” he adds. “As long as that version exists somewhere.” You don’t say anything. Just lean your head on his shoulder as you walk. The silence between you is steady, like a heartbeat. “Let’s make it real,” you whisper. “Someday.” “We will,” he whispers back. You believe him. And for now, that’s enough. — Hanwool’s Diary Thursday - 11:53 pm I wish I could press pause. Just for a little while. Just to stay in this version of us longer. We talked about our future together. And I want that. God, I do.

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