Iris’s POV The alarm rang relentlessly like it had something personal against me. I groaned, reaching out blindly until my fingers found my phone and silenced it. For a second, I stayed there, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember why I had willingly chosen to be awake at this hour. Then I remembered I wanted to make breakfast for Marcus. I let out a slow breath and pushed myself up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. This had been a deliberate decision. I wanted to do something normal. I haven't cooked in months and it can serve as a reset, in the smallest way possible. The apartment was still when I stepped into the kitchen. That early kind of stillness where everything feels untouched, like the day hasn’t started making demands yet. I moved around quietly, more out of instinct than necessity, pulling things out, setting them down, giving myself something to focus on that didn’t involve overthinking. By the time I started cooking, I had no room for spiralin
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