Chapter 11 The Universe Hates Me (Confirmed)

The next morning, I woke up with the weirdest feeling in my chest.

Not dread.

Not anxiety.

Something… warm.

Soft.

Hopeful, even.

Which was concerning.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying last night—his hand on my cheek, the way he looked at me like I was something fragile and preci...

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