AARÓN CONNOR

ITALY.

꘎♡━━━━━━━♡꘎

This time I won’t let her attitude slide. I’ve been sitting on the stairs for a while now, waiting for her. And hours later, the soft creak of the door opening pulls me from my thoughts. I lift my gaze and there she is — her silhouette outlined by the dim light of the hallway. Her brown hair falls in waves over her shoulders, and those eyes… eyes that seem to hold endless memories, staring off into some distant point. My muscles tense instantly, but I force myself to stay still as she walks toward me with confident, almost arrogant steps, each movement deliberate — like she’s silently daring me.

She doesn’t say a word. Not one. She simply passes right by me, like I’m nothing more than air shifting through her hair. She climbs the stairs with that same calmness that chills my blood, and my jaw clenches so hard it hurts. Fury starts bubbling beneath my skin at her indifference. I want to lash out, demand