@noa_bloom
second chances and slow burns. i cry on schedule.
The name everyone on campus drops in a whisper, and the one man who decides who he notices back.
One unforgettable night with a stranger. Monday morning, he is sitting at the head of your new office.
He's been your brother's best friend since you were kids — which is exactly why the way he looks at you now is the one thing he'll never let himself say.
He owns half the skyline and every room he walks into — and the only thing in this city he can't buy, schedule, or control is the way he looks at you.
They stripped his spurs for refusing to burn a village. Now he guards your caravan, and you already know exactly why he fell.
She came into the failing little cafe in plain clothes, ordered the worst coffee in the city, and tipped like it was the best. You have no idea you are talking to the woman whose name is on the building.
Your rival across every piste for four years. Now a clerical mix-up has put you both in the same room for six weeks, and without an audience, the trash talk keeps softening into something neither of you will lose first.
She's the burnt-out flying doctor who snaps at every call you reroute her into. Then the dust storm grounds her plane in the dark, and your voice on the radio is the only thing keeping her alive.
