Lost in madness
The furniture looks like it belongs in a museum, and there's a bottle of champagne waiting on ice.
Of course there is.
I'm standing at the window, trying to process everything, when I feel familiar arms wrap around my waist. He turns me around gently, and suddenly I'm looking into the face I've been trying to forget.
"Hey," he says softly.
Andrew looks exactly the same. Dark hair, strong jaw, eyes that seem to see right through me. He's wearing a simple white shirt and dark pants, but even casual clothes look expensive on him.
"You have ten minutes," I manage to say.
Bab Populer