With the hand unmarred by my sneeze, he combs long fingers through dark hair. It’s parted and shaggy and likely long enough to partially tie back with a strap. But when he brushes the strands out of his face, I catch sight of a silver streak hiding among the rugged black waves. My heart stops at the sight. At the reminder of Pae. “Was walking through the wall not proof enough of that?” he asks blandly, his eyes finally flicking to mine. I doubt I’ll be getting so much as a smile anytime soon. Or a kind word, for that matter. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to earn one. “Sorry, um, I’ve just
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