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35 | Westwing

A month strolls by, slow and bitter. Not a single word passes between us. Neither of us tries. He still sleeps near me sometimes, and other nights, he disappears without a trace. I’ve searched the mansion for him, room after room, but he’s always gone before I can find him. Eventually, I stopped looking. I let him vanish into whatever darkness he needed, and I never asked where he went.

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Talesofnyxx

Dark romance author | I write twisted love stories that bleed | Welcome to my psychological playground πŸ–€

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