her in. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t the kind of beauty that begged for attention. It was quiet, confident, the kind that made you want to look closer, to see what else was there. Her smile faltered. “You’re not going to change
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your mind, are you?”} Not a chance, { I said, my voice low as I stepped toward her. The space between us disappeared, and then it was just her and me and the tangle of sheets. Her hands were everywhere, exploring, demanding, grounding me in
the present in a way I hadn’t felt in longer than I cared to admit. It wasn’t just sex. It was something else, something primal and desperate, like we were both trying to fill the same void. And for a while, it worked. When it was over, we lay tangled
together in the quiet, her head resting against my chest. I stared at the ceiling, my arm draped over her waist as her breathing evened out, soft and steady. “You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. I didn’t respond, didn’t trust myself to speak. The ghosts were creeping
back in, but for now, they were at bay, held off by the warmth of her skin against mine. Moments later, I felt her drift off into slumber something I wish came easy for me. Minutes as passed as the room became silent except for her soft, even breaths. She
was still curled against me, her hair spilling across my chest like ink. It should’ve been comforting, grounding, but instead, it felt like a weight pressing down on me. The aftermath always did like the ghosts came rushing back to remind me that
nothing good ever lasted. Just as those thoughts crept in my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound slicing through the quiet like a blade. I froze, staring at the glowing screen, the Bureau’s number flashing like an accusation. I slid out from under her as carefully as I could, grabbing
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