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Weston casted his gaze upon the nonchalant usurper, whose gaze was glued outside of the window.

The usurper sat there, with one leg crossed over his knee, and an arm propping up his chin. He continued observing the scenery outside the window, his gaze landing upon the roses that were kept in the far back of the garden. Were they mocking him?

Golden roses blossomed beautifully under the sun, it's petals a glistening yellow that brightened anyone's day. Roses…

"You ...

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