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... he empty snack wrapper beside his book, expression unreadable.

He turned his head slightly—Luca was sprawled on the bed, one arm hanging off the edge, chest rising and falling in that unbothered rhythm only deep sleep could bring. Vest clinging to his torso, shoes still on.

Noel exhaled, a slow, almost automatic breath that barely escaped his lips, as if he were releasing a thread of tension he barely realized he was holding.

He set his pen down with precision, closed his ...

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