He was already halfway into the room, standing awkwardly, looking at my bed like it was laced with dynamite.
“I told you,” I whispered. “You won’t stay long.”
He turned to look at me, and the second our eyes met, I felt it. That magnetic pull again. The one that made it hard to breathe. The one that made my fingers twitch with the need to touch something.
To touch him.
I walked past him toward my desk, trying to act normal, trying to remember what normal even looked like. I dropped my bag, adjusted the curtain that didn’t need adjusting, and turned back around just in time to see him take a seat on my bed.
Like it was his.
Like I was his.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded. Slowly. “Yeah. Just… it’s weird being here. Feels like I’m in your diary or something.”
I smiled. “You kinda are
