ZEE.
The library was quiet. Too quiet.
The silence was so deep, every page I turned sounded long louder than it should’ve.
But I liked it that way.
The quiet gave my thoughts space to breathe, to sort themselves out. And after the night I had—with Denver’s warmth still lingering in my skin and Lawrence’s shadow creeping back into my mind—I needed the stillness.
I was deep in my Literature notes, highlighter in hand, when I felt the shift.
A presence.
I looked up, slowly, half-expecting to see the usual study loners or maybe one of the shy juniors needing help. Instead, I saw her.
Blake.
Sitting just a few feet away from me, flipping open a book like this was normal.
Like we did this every Tuesday or something.
My eyebrows nearly flew off my face. Blake? In the library? Reading?
