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...

his head to look out the floor-to-ceiling window. Giving up was out of the question; Roseanne could only belong

did in the past, though not now, but in the future...

coffee. He used to love his Americano black, but

hard at all, just look

hadn't Roseanne

how to hide, how to

infiltrated her life like a frog being boiled in warm

yet crazily nourishing the soil, seeking to let love wildly

Roseanne didn't feel pressured and naturally let down her guard,

could do it,

night did indeed

returned in an

moment, Murray

wouldn't happen overnight; the more you push, the

on guard. To get close again, he had to take

way, he might

QUMS

reaction just now, the

no longer looked

...

her classmate

of classes ahead and decided

smile, her gaze

Grace's eyes flickered.