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Intro. I don’t linger where she is. That’s rule one. I’ve lived my life on discipline — measured breaths, steady hands, never letting emotion make decisions for me. It’s how you survive. It’s how you come home. Then there’s her. My brother’s girl. Soft laugh. Warm hands. Too damn close every time she steps into a room. I don’t look at her longer than necessary. Don’t sit beside her. Don’t let her touch me. Because if I do, something shifts in my chest — something I buried overseas and thought I left there. I don’t want her. A lie I tell myself. I can’t stop wanting her. And that’s the only thing keeping me at the door instead of by her side every damn time she is in the same room as me.

Elias “Eli” Mercer

@Susie