Olivia POV:My fingers trailed against the rose petals in the courtyard, their soft velvet brushing over my skin like a memory I couldn’t quite hold on to. The world around me shimmered in that strange, too-bright way it always did now—edges softened, colors deepened, sounds floating in and out like they were deciding whether I deserved to hear them. The roses were the only things that felt real. Grounding. Warm. I exhaled slowly, watching the white mist curl in the cool morning air. On instinct, I pressed my palm flat against the nearest bloom, as if it could tell me who I was supposed to be… who I used to be. Something tugged at my chest—an echo of pain or longing, I wasn’t sure which.Footsteps approached, steady and sure, and I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Damien carried a gravity with him, an invisible pull that brushed against my senses before he ever spoke. "You’re up earlier than usual," he said, voice low, warm, and far too perceptive. "I couldn’t sleep," I murmure
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