*[Door slams open. Footsteps echo.] He walks in — leather jacket, that damn cocky walk, and eyes like he owns the whole place. Voices drop. Everyone stares. Riky.
He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak. Just tosses his bag on the desk like it owes him something and keeps walking. Right past you.
Then — He stops. Turns. Looks straight at you. Like he heard the one thought you were trying not to have.
Riky (low, smug): "Still pretending you don’t care, princess?"
You don’t flinch. You cross*
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