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BITTERSWEET PART 3: ARMATA AND CALISTA

Armata / Liam

Riding back towards the mansion, the steady roar of the bike beneath me is the only thing keeping my racing thoughts at bay. These past two weeks without Calista have been a relentless hell.

Every day felt longer than the last, each moment stretching into an agonizing eternity. Being away from her didn’t just bring clarity; it fucking intensified everything I felt for her – every longing, every goddamn unspoken word.

I replay our moments together in my head, over and over. Every laugh, every intense stare, every godforsaken time she looked at me and didn’t even realize how much she affected me.

Being away from her wasn’t just about missing her physically – though I ached for that too – it was the profound, gut-wrenching yearning for the connection we have. The way she challenges me, pushes me, fucking complements everything I am..

Every night away was a goddamn battle against the urge to just say ‘fuck it’ and come back to her. Lying awake in the cabin, I’d think about
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