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Summary
He felt something slip inside him—control, composure, the thin veneer of calm he’d constructed for this day. All of it, dissolving like sugar dropped into boiling water.
Because walking straight toward him, beaming like the sun itself, was a face Megumi remembered far too well. A body he remembered too vividly. A night he had tried and failed to forget during the chaos of graduation.
The boy from that club. The one he’d gone home with. The one who’d fucked him within an inch of sanity on his last night of undergrad. The one whose laugh was still embarrassingly clear in the hazier parts of his memory.
And worst of all—
Megumi couldn’t even remember his name.