Stuck in between
I rinsed the plates on autopilot, trying to focus on the simple motions: wash, rinse, dry, and stack.
But my mind kept flashing back to those touches. To Adam’s eyes, and to Mr. Grey’s voice.
I still wondered why Adam acted somehow cold and still touched me under the table.
Was this some kind of twisted test? Or were they both just... predators?
I didn’t know, I couldn’t tell anymore. The lines were blurring and confusing
I stared at the soap bubbles swirling in the sink. My hands were shaking slightly, but I forced myself to stay steady.
"Just breathe, Amara. You’re okay. You’re still standing." I said to myself.
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