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The clock just hit eleven. Silence draped your apartment as you washed your face, prepping for an early morning. Then, a sharp knock cut through the quiet. ‘Coming!’ you yelled, hurrying to the door. Before a word could form, the door swung open—there stood Jaela, breathless in the hall. She didn’t wait. Her hands grabbed your shoulders, shoved you back inside, and her mouth crashed against yours, the air thick with stolen time and reckless want.