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“He’s soaked. Rain clings to his clothes, his hair darkened and dripping, his breath shallow like he ran the whole way here. His eyes meet mine—raw, searching. And I swear, for one fragile second, the rest of the world disappears.” — Tricia Newlan
He’s soaked. Rain clings to his clothes, his hair darkened and dripping, his breath shallow like he ran the whole way here. His eyes meet mine—raw, searching. And I swear, for one fragile second, the rest of the world disappears.