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1851 Words

•DIORA• "Eleanor," I called out to the interior decorator and she swung her head in my direction, wearing a dainty smile on her radiant face. "I think black would be just fine for the furniture. Axel doesn't like bright colors." I told her, ignoring the pang that settled in my chest at the mention of his name. "Uh, okay then!" she chirped, jotting down on her notepad. I freed my hair from its ponytail, running my fingers through it and sighing exhaustively as I leaned on the chair for support, scared my legs could fail me anytime. "Are you sure you are okay?" she asked me, and I nodded vigorously with a faux smile. "You look really pale," she stated, furrowing her brows in worry. And just like that, that irritable instinct was bubbling up to the face, denting a hard frown on my face.

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