In the bustling heart of the college campus, where laughter and the clatter of footsteps filled the air, Asher Kleen leaned against a tree, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. He was waiting, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even himself. Then, across the lawn, he saw himโPhillip Westwood, his ginger hair catching the sunlight like a flame. Asher's heart skipped a beat, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. Phillip's laughter carried over the noise.
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