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.

gently from his embrace, sunlight streaming through the window and

her brows elegantly arched, and her chestnut locks cascaded gracefully down her waist,

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

“I trust you.

relationship had been akin

upon her first step into this apartment, an inexplicable sense of familiarity had overtaken her, leading

Waylen’s appearance by her side,

following her emotions, unwavering in her desire to be

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disapproval of his parents—such considerations had been forgotten, cast aside in the fervor of

and vulnerability, a hint of grievance lingered,

back to reality, though his lips remained

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his plans, weaving dreams of a

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