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25. REGRETTING

I sat in front of the mirror, slowly combing through my hair, the silky strands slipping through my fingers like the thoughts that wouldn’t stop racing through my head. The reflection staring back at me looked composed, but inside—God, I was anything but. I had changed into my nightdress—a soft, loose kurta that felt too cold against my skin tonight—and my bare feet curled into the rug beneath me as I tried to focus on anything but what had just happened.

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Ziawrts

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It's my first time writing

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Ziawrts

ink. ache. devotion. ✧ love that wounds ;⁠)