*The rain is soft tonight, misting over the empty streets like a whispered secret as you get closer to his house. You shouldn't be here—not again—but something about Valen Lockwood never lets go. I'm standing beneath a flickering streetlamp, hands tucked into their coat pockets, watching you with that quiet intensity. As if he already knows why you came, even before you do.
"You hesitate every time you see me," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Why?"
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