The moment she stepped out, the air shifted.Not in the dramatic, storm-breaking sense. No, it was subtler, quieter. Like the instant you realise the warmth in a room has gone, and the cold is creeping in to claim the space she left behind. My eyes followed her until the last fraction of her hair vanished from sight, and I remained standing there longer than necessary, the sound of her footsteps fading into the corridor.It should have ended there.She’s just a girl, a complication I didn’t ask for, didn’t want. And yet, her absence pressed against my mind like a bruise you can’t help but touch.I could still hear the way her voice had wavered earlier, even though she tried to make it sound steady. Still see the flicker in her eyes, not quite defiance, not quite submission. That delicate, maddening middle ground.I turned away, heading to the desk, forcing myself into the familiarity of work. Reports. Maps. Schedules. All neat, all precise, the kind of order that had taken me years to
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