❄ Camille ❄
I stopped by Ford's Chicken and got a bucket of fried chicken before I drove to Sebastian’s house. His suburb looked too neat for how messy he made me feel. Houses sat in polite rows, porch lights glowing, curtains drawn. It was the kind of place that pretended winter was romantic instead of dangerous. I parked in his driveway and sat for a second with both hands on the wheel. My heart wasn’t racing. It felt heavy, steady, determined.
"I can do this," I told myself aloud. The takeout bag crinkled when I grabbed it. I walked up his path, my boots crunching on frozen gravel, and then I paused at his front door. I didn't knock. Instead, I reached out and grabbed the door handle. It turned easily, and I opened the door. Warmth and soft lamplight greeted me as I stepped inside li
