Simran Nagpal

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He walks closely behind me, almost too close. His tall frame towers over me, looming and crowding. Hyper aware of his proximity, I glance up at him in the elevator, my shoulder to his chest. There’s no way he means to stand so close to me, but something in his eyes when he looks down at me says he knows exactly what he’s doing. Nothing he does is by accident.
Any Means Necessary
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