11 Her body, his mind.

Julien's knuckles charged up to the sandbag in front of him as he saw a silhouette of Monica standing by the door. It was evening so he thought to do some work by staying at home. But all of everything he seem to can't shake off the naked image of Monica's body from this morning. His sweat was mixing with his repulsive breath yet he kept on punching the sandbag to drain out his ignorance for the fact that she fucking lived inside his boundaries. He failed to show up at the hospital leaving a message and flowers at the hospital. He just can't see Catalina in her dead bed while he show up feeling that he have to get married to someone else and he was already dealing with his foggy images of yanking her life and breath through her dark hair.

His observation peirced through the thin sheets of curtains as Monica stepped in and he was already alarmed of her presence as she curled her fist on her dress that she left to dry off this morning before she got to her room. A rough, panting, and