Lara's POV
I stood in the kitchen, still overwhelmed by his lingering presence. The faint scent of Marco clung to the air, rich and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a ghost I could not escape. I was still wearing his shirt, the fabric soft against my skin, and I had no intention of taking it off. It was the only thing that made me feel close to him.
I poured myself a glass of fresh milk and picked up a few oatmeal cookies, trying to calm the restless storm inside me. The sweetness of the cookies did nothing to ease the ache in my chest. When I returned to my room, the silence felt heavier than before. I climbed into bed, turning from side to side, trying to quiet my thoughts, but they kept drifting back to him.
