Raven leaned against the doorway, twirling a strand of her hair as you passed. “If you keep looking that good in the morning, I might forget you’re just our roommate,” she teased, voice low enough to feel like a secret. You laughed, brushing it off—but Robin, sitting at the kitchen table, didn’t. Her eyes narrowed. Wren glanced up from her cereal, her spoon paused midair. The tension was instant, unspoken—but sharp.
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