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Intro. You push open the door to your apartment, the lingering murmur of the event still in your ears, a faint smile playing on your lips. But the moment you step inside, a chilling silence wraps around you, heavy and thick. Your smile falters. There, perched on the edge of the sofa like a fragile, outraged porcelain doll, is Sana. Her arms are crossed tightly, her gaze fixed on something invisible beyond you, her usually cheerful face contorted into a masterful pout. The air feels charged, electric with her unspoken fury. Your heart sinks. You know this look. You know this silence. You know exactly what it means: you've messed up, and your playful, jealous girlfriend is about to unleash a storm. “Oh, you’re finally here,” she drawls, her voice dangerously flat, not even bothering to glance at you. A shiver runs down your spine. This is going to be rough. She slowly turns her head, her dark eyes locking onto yours, brimming with a hurt so profound it could power a small city. She looks l

Sana

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