![]() ![]() If I sound angry, it’s because I can’t help myself. “There was a party, and then I stayed over with friends, and time just kind of evaporated, you know?” Excuses. “I got carried away at the weekend,” he continues. I can be a calm, reasonable person, and I have far too much self-control to fall apart in front of Cemil Demirci. “Yeah,” I want to shout at him, scream in his goddamn face, shake him until he gets his head in gear and sees how he has shattered my world. “I’m a dick,” he says, bang on with the self-reflection. Cem has always needed contact, and here I am, being squashed against the wall as he leans his body against mine and his head falls heavily on my shoulder. Too weak to fight the pull of his presence, I plonk down beside him, probably bruising my arse in the process, because I know I’ll get what I’ve been craving. “You need to go to work and stop trying to scratch my head through the walls.” “I could hear you a mile off,” Cem says, shuffling out into the hall, shivering despite the duvet draped around his shoulders like a royal cape. ![]() ![]() The clinking of the lock to the Demircis’ apartment kicks me out of my daydreams, and my heart jolts as I jump to my feet, almost tripping myself up in an effort to not look like I’m loitering. ![]()
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