Zade P.O.V
Damn, why are there so many pizza boxes piling up across the street? It’s like every other minute, another delivery guy drops off more slices—cheesy, greasy, tempting as hell.
I lean against the windowsill, watching from the shadows, feeling that familiar tug of hunger mixed with frustration. It’s late, and I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t help but wonder—what’s so appealing about all that comfort food? Maybe it’s just a distraction, or maybe I’m craving something I can’t quite name.
I push off the wall, my gaze lingering on the glow from the streetlights illuminating those stacked boxes. Every slice, every box, feels like a reminder of everything I’m trying to forget—secrets, betrayals, all the chaos just outside my window.
And yet, I can’t help but think—what if I ju
