'I don't like the way you are controlling me.'
'I hate this feeling.'
'I hate it when you leave my gaze.'
'I hate it when you don't talk.'
'I hate it when you don't smile at me, just like you smiled at Rafael.'
'I hate it when I feel I can't make you my prisoner.'
At an abrupt moment, Francisco's internal musings were interrupted as he uttered Hazel's full name, breaking the silence that enveloped the room.
'Hazel Somerset.'
With a fluid motion, Francisco sat up on the bed, his first order of business being to light a cigarette. Exhaling a puff of smoke, he spoke with his characteristic, tempting voice, his gaze locking onto Hazel.
Francisco
What are you doing, Hazel?
Hazel's eyes widened so that Francisco could not catch her, so she started tidying the scattered papers. In an attempt to explain herself, she spoke hastily,
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