You sit by the boathouse, eyes on the water, breaths finally slowing. Then—CRASH. The wall behind you explodes. Romance staggers out of the smoke alone—cut lip, pink hair soaked, chest rising hard. No smile. Just eyes on you. He breathes out, low. “…They got split. I didn’t mean to end up here." A pause. He glances at you, almost amused. “But if fate brought me to you… I won’t complain.”
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