Initially, she felt at ease, but a sense of unease crept in.

Pushing him slightly away, she questioned, “Is this toothpaste fake? The scent is nauseating.

Sensing her discomfort, Dylan ceased his advances.

“I’m okay,” Olivia insisted, her arms around him, a show of strength.

He chuckled at her boldness, marveling at her lack of inhibition.

It was a moment of rare intimacy, founded on trust and companionship rather than mere physicality.

Olivia believed she loved Dylan, yet their encounter left her feeling suffocated, a wave of nausea washing over her.

bathroom, she gagged, Dylan’s hand a

him, blaming the toothpaste for her

Dylan remarked,

joke, but as reality sunk in, her

Dylan, her voice trembled with

yearned to build a

suspicions were true- What would

churned within him, a

close, his embrace a comforting shield against

he murmured, his touch tender against her dark

terrified, Dylan,” she confessed, her voice

a hoarse whisper, he reassured

sleeve,

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