The Werenun’s Dirty Professor
They felt like wings.
We lay there for a long time, speaking in hushed voices about things we had never dared say. About the children we might have, about the places we wanted to see, about the kind of home we wished to build. Each dream wove around us like threads of light, binding us tighter, softer, truer.
By the time sleep finally came, I knew this wasn’t just passion. It wasn’t just longing. It was destiny. And though part of me still feared the storm ahead, another part was certain—together, we were unstoppable.
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