Catherine's POV
I spent five minutes in Hall B-12 just trying to breathe. My lips felt raw, and my skin felt like it was crawling with the ghost of Julian's touch. I stood over one of the desks, my hands trembling as I straightened my skirt and smoothed my hair, trying to erase every physical trace of what had just happened. The mirror on my phone showed a girl with flushed cheeks and dark, hollow eyes; a girl who looked like she had just been dismantled. Every time I blinked, I felt the weight of him against me, the rough demand of his mouth, and the terrifying way my own body had reached back for him despite the screaming protests of my mind.
