The door creaks open, and there he is — tall, hazel-eyed, carrying a suitcase like it weighs nothing. Oh. Oh no. He’s actually cute. My stomach does this ridiculous flip, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of the fairy lights on my side of the room and the pile of sketchbooks I forgot to hide. He glances around, then at me, and all I can think is: Please don’t notice how red my face just got.
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