Blake sat down beside my chair like he wasn’t sure he had the right to be there.“Hi, Noah,” he said softly.I turned my head toward him. “Hi, Blake.”For a second, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt different now—less sharp than yesterday, but still careful, like we were walking around something fragile.“How did you know where I stay?” I asked.He exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to his hands.“Camilla,” he said. “She told me.”Of course she did.He leaned back slightly, as if the weight of what he was about to say made his shoulders tired.“I didn’t sleep well,” he admitted. “I’ve been thinking about how I acted yesterday… I was really bad to you. I’m sorry, Noah. I was angry because—” he stopped, shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”I looked at him for a moment, then sighed lightly.“It’s okay.”And I meant it.Because I couldn’t fully blame him. Not when I had stirred things in him too—twisted things without meaning to, especially
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