THE FAMILIAR WORDS CUT through the thick fog inside my head, and I wiped at my eyes, at the wet skin of my cheeks. It had always been our thing. This place. This spot. This hour. Where the world and all the doubt inside my head had been the quietest. I didn’t turn right away, gathering myself and working a small smile onto my lips. I was a lot of things, a shitty friend, a terrible son, a failed photographer, but I’d be damned if I was ready to admit it to anyone. Especially to him. Especially Rook. He was good and whole, and I was a hot mess express. I never wanted him to look at me the way
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