Dylan Emilia strolls into my room later that day, and like always she looks as if she walked straight off the runway and found herself in my room. She's wearing a clean white suit that would've been modest if it wasn't for the white lace top hugging her breast and showing through the open lapels. Her hair runs down her shoulders in golden waves She looked sophisticated, beautiful. Emilia and I were like yin and yang. She was all gold and light. Polished and untouchable, and I was darker, rougher around the edges, lost. We couldn't be any different. I push away some books sprawled on my bed to make room for her in case she wanted to sit. She didn't, she stood by the door just staring at me. "You better be taking me to diner first with the way you're eye-fucking me," I said. She sighed, finally taking the space I made for her on the bed. "I need a favour." I sat up straighter, my interest piqued. "Wha
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