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Had walked through the city with sweat still cooling on his skin, with the taste of smoke still lingering in his mouth, with the knowledge that he had ruined himself for nothing.
And then he had come home.
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Reno lowered himself to his knees, his movements fluid, practiced. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers curling just enough to betray the tension he tried to suppress.
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Samudra stood frozen, listening to Reno’s retreating footsteps as he disappeared into his room.
For a full minute, he remained there, unmoving, before finally exhaling, pushing open his door, and stepping inside.
ㅤㅤ
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He wanted to disappear into the heat of Hansel’s touch, into the sensation of skin on skin, until he wasn’t Samudra anymore. Until the weight of expectations, the bitter taste of guilt, and the suffocating stench of failure melted into something fleetingly sweet.
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