I scroll through Twitter and make an attempt at stomaching the bagel I’ve nibbled on so early in the morning as people file in. Everyone looks as miserable as I feel, which is comforting in a way. Everyone except for Leo. Of course I notice him. It’s impossible not to. He’s ruggedly stunning. A vision of strength and masculinity, with the face of a god. But there’s something to be said about the way he carries himself. I can’t help but look at him as his boisterous laugh fills the lecture hall. He’s wearing that same full outfit of his team’s merchandise that every hockey guy does. It suits
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