–Lore–
What she did to me was cruel.
Pure, calculated cruelty.
I clutched the pillow when she hovered over me—too close, too confident, wearing that teasing smile like she knew exactly what she was doing to my sanity. My breath stalled. My brain short-circuited. Every instinct screamed to pull her closer, to flip the situation entirely—but damn it.
I couldn't.
Holding back hurt more than I was willing to admit.
And then—just like that—she left. As if she hadn't just turned my composure into dust.
The moment she was gone, I grabbed the pillow she'd used, buried my flushed face into it, and let out a groan of pure frustration. Not because I wanted to be reckless—but because wanting her felt constant. Loud. Relentless.
I took a long moment to breathe. To calm myself down. To shake off her smile, her voice, her addictive presence that lingered far longer than it should have.
Cold water. Fresh clothes. A neatly made bed.
Control restored. Barely.
