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... hair.

He felt sluggish.

There was only one person in the world who could touch him like this on the bed.

Tarkan kept his eyes closed; afraid that if he opened his eyes, the hand on his hair would disappear.

But contrary to expectations, that hand was soon withdrawn.

Soon, his golden eyes, soaked with regret, were revealed under the morning sun.

“You’re awake?” Aristine asked, looking down at him from where she sat on the bed.

Tarkan slowly sat up.

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