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Lights hung from high windows like tired eyes, and the alleys breathed a damp mix of yeast, tobacco, and poorly hidden urgency. Some streets had music. Others, too much silence.
And there we were, walking side by side like part of something rehearsed — even if we didn’t exactly know the script.
She walked half a step ahead. As always.
Wore a dark, lightweight dress that swayed with grace at each confident stride. I followed, hands in pockets, eyes scanning corner ...
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