Bianca’s Point of ViewSaturday nights were my escape. Bars, loud music, and dancing until my legs ache—it was the best way to shake off the monotony of my life. That night, I wore a tight dress and my favorite punk boots, hoping to find someone who could make my heart race. Unfortunately, the university wasn’t exactly teeming with werewolves.My family had always pushed the idea that Marvin and I were a perfect match. They claimed his steady, composed nature balanced out my wild, impulsive streak.I had given him a chance—more than once, actually. But no matter how many dates we went on, Marvin remained the same: stiff, old-fashioned, and utterly predictable. He only ever wore a black coat or a black leather jacket, and his face never changed from that serious, unreadable mask. Conversations with him felt like sitting through a lecture on tax law—dry, tedious, and completely unromantic.The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with energy. Couples whispered sweet nothings in shadowy corners, o
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