That First Night with Caroline: Awkward Sparks to Raw Surrender
My bedroom in Toulouse. Late night. Heart pounding like a punk drum from the concert we’d just left. Caroline, this chatty girl I’d barely clicked with at first, now crashing on my couch because of too many mojitos. No turning back. I’d offered out of politeness, sleepy and unimpressed. But alcohol lingered, mixing fatigue with…
