บททั้งหมดของ Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Chapter 70: They Touched Her Body. I Touched Her Ache II The memory of violet eyes lingered in her chest, a weight she couldn’t shake. Even now, back in her apartment, the pull of that cave, that presence, threaded through her bones. Her skin tingled with the ghost of contact, and every quiet shadow seemed to whisper of Riri, waiting, patient, and possessive. The city hummed beyond the walls, but inside, the ache of absence pressed close, reminding her she had left someone — or something — behind. Aria’s chest still felt heavy, a dull ache no warmth could erase. The echoes of the night — kisses she hadn’t shared, touches she’d missed, laughter from lovers she hadn’t held — clung to her like shadows, settling into the corners of her skin. She reached for the sheets, but only cold linen answered. Her phone flared in the dark, buzzing insistently. Notifications stacked like tiny, blinking fingers: Nova’s name, a voice memo from Iris she hadn’t opened, Selene’s blurry photo of the mo

Chapter 72: I Like You So Much It Scares Me The dream still clung to her skin. Aria woke gasping, heartbeat drumming hard in her chest, body damp with heat and something else she didn’t want to name yet. Her sheets were a mess — twisted, kicked down past her knees, tangled with the oversized hoodie she barely remembered pulling on before bed. The air in the room was still, heavy. No wind. No sound but the faint hum of a backup power cell pulsing behind the fridge. The city outside was hushed — not the kind of quiet that brought peace, but the kind that came after loss. After rotters moved on. After the scream faded. But Aria’s mind was still caught somewhere else. Her lips parted like she was about to speak a name. The taste lingered. Riri. She shivered. She didn’t know how long the dream had lasted — if it had even been a dream. It felt like falling through smoke and then touch, velvet and heat and teeth. Eyes the color of molten metal. Hands that knew too much. A voice that ca

Chapter 74: You Said Behave, I Said Carry Me Home The city outside was fractured silence — neon humming faintly, glass scattered along sidewalks like broken constellations. Inside, the apartment smelled faintly of sweat and frost, the mats still damp from sparring, Aria’s chest still tight from every strike, every kiss, every look Selene had given her. It didn’t feel like training anymore. Not the way it had at first. The steps and stances blurred into something heavier, something alive, something Aria didn’t want to pull away from even when her muscles trembled. Selene hadn’t let her hide behind hesitation. Every correction had been a touch, every command wrapped in steel and cold certainty. And somewhere between the pivots, the dodges, the aching repetition, Aria realized she wasn’t afraid of her own body anymore. She wasn’t afraid of Selene either. That was the part that made her breath stutter. Because fear had been her anchor for so long, and suddenly — it wasn’t there. It w

Chapter 76: You Said Tired, I Said Get On Me II Steam rose in heavy curls, clinging to skin, fogging up the mirror, dripping down the tile like sweat. The power was still out, but the emergency generator buzzed faintly in the next room, just strong enough to keep the water hot. Selene’s back was pressed to the shower wall, cool despite the heat, bare skin slick with mist, hair wet and curling in dark, unruly strands that stuck to her cheek. Aria stood inches away. Breathing hard. Wet lashes fluttering, lips parted. Her hands were on Selene’s hips, thumbs brushing that spot just above the curve of her towel — like she couldn’t decide whether to pull it away or hold it tighter. “You keep looking at me like that,” Selene murmured, voice low and lazy, “and I’m going to do something you’ll blame me for later.” Aria blinked once. “Who says I’ll blame you?” Selene’s mouth tilted in that half - smile that made Aria forget her name. “You’re trouble,” Aria whispered, and leaned in — kiss

Chapter 78: Her Cold Hands Anchored Me To This Body The screen on Aria’s wristband pulsed red — battery critically low. She slid it off and tucked it in her hoodie pocket. The world outside was suffocating in humidity, streaked with a sickly red sky that felt less sunrise and more warning. Gloria Data’s emergency broadcast had long since died, leaving only static and rumors of seismic shifts. Inside the abandoned apartment, everything felt heavy. A scanner flickered in the corner, showing zones of electromagnetic interference around the scar. Eric’s old laptop lay open, traces of audio logs paused mid - play — voices arguing about safe routes near the trench. Aria hadn’t dared press play again. Each cable crackled with faint betrayal: the world was dying, but technology still hummed on. Aria sat up, muscles stiff from limited sleep. Her skin still tingled with yesterday’s exhaustion and tonight’s promise. She peered out the cracked window into the malformed sky. The red seam glow