Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Keep your distance, don't come any closer. It's the best advice, both for yourself and for him.

Roseanne packed up her documents and pen, and suddenly, the man murmured to himself—

"But I still consider you a friend..."

Roseanne walked away.

Murray watched her retreating figure, calmly shifting his gaze away.

He picked up his mug and took a sip of his coffee.

The bitterness spread instantly from the tip of his tongue to his entire mouth, yet his expression remained unchanged.

His thumb gently caressed the rim of the mug, his eyes falling on the cup Roseanne had used.

She seemed to have always liked her coffee with cream, less bitter that way.

Murray reached for the cup and took a light sip.

Indeed, he wasn't wrong.

They had lived together for six years, not six months, not six days.

Six whole years.

How could anyone say he didn't know her?

No, he understood her better than anyone else!

So...

head to look out the floor-to-ceiling window. Giving up was out of the

the past, though not now, but in the

of the coffee. He used to love his Americano black, but since she didn't like

all, just

hadn't Roseanne pushed him

to hide, how

way, he infiltrated her life like a frog being boiled in

insignificant, yet crazily nourishing the soil, seeking to let

silently, advancing by retreating, so Roseanne didn't feel pressured and naturally let down her guard, allowing him to

do

last night did

sobriety returned in an

that moment, Murray suddenly saw the

happen overnight; the more you push, the further

actions had already put her on guard. To get close again, he had to take a different approach,

he might

QUMS

by Roseanne's reaction just now, the

no longer looked

...

and her

remembering they had a full day of classes ahead and decided to pop in

smile, her gaze casually catching the man

Grace's eyes flickered.