A pang of sorrow tugged at Waylen’s heart.

He longed to whisk Rena, now 20, away, as if he could possess two versions of her.

One mature and refined.

The other youthful and naive.

The very notion was almost unbearable to contemplate.

His head dipped, lips pressing against her forehead, a murmur escaping his lips.

“We’ll be together, Rena.

Trust me.

through the window

brows elegantly arched, and her chestnut locks cascaded gracefully down

those of a newborn animal, held a tremor as she spoke with

“I trust you.

at 20, this relationship had been

resisted its downpour, yet upon her first step into this apartment,

as though fate itself had orchestrated Waylen’s appearance by

her emotions,

‘s BunnyBookery

his parents—such considerations had been forgotten, cast aside in

of

yearned to lead her back to reality, though his lips remained

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