Even at the age of 26 I still feel as though reading late into the night is badass. Although I no longer hide under the covers with my torch, keeping an ear out for the parental sentry patrol, heart pounding when I hear the creak of footsteps in the hall.
I'm wisened enough to realise that reading after midnight doesn't make me seem tough, and yet I still felt rebellious as I tossed and turned through the last pages of my novel.
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