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... s I found myself pressed against the wooden shelves of the small book storage room.
Rumia’s lips were soft and urgent against mine, her breath warm and sweet. The sound of our kisses echoed softly in the cramped space, mixing with the distant murmur of students passing in the corridors beyond.
Time seemed to stretch and compress simultaneously as we lost ourselves in each other’s embrace. The outside world—with its pressing obligations and watchful eyes—faded into insignificance. ...
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