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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•|

As a fictional writer with a reserved personality, I secretly craved intimacy like the one in the books. A raw connection that was born out of an unusual circumstance. The need to have that was very vibrant during my teenage years, but it began waning when it became crystal clear that I wanted something that merely existed in books.

It wasn't real and that made me snap out of it until I saw him. I understood what it was to be drawn to someone you shared no history with, to someone you barely knew. It became very clear what it meant to crave someone so much like you needed them like the air you breathe.

I was thoroughly taken by him at first sight. But all these were just thoughts until the intimacy we shared just now. It sealed and solidified everything I felt. It was as though I had a veil peeled off my face and it became so clear that I wasn't just obsessed with André. I felt something deeper towards him, something that made me feel so alive. Something like. .
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