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"Oh, my god, that water is freezing!" I sputter, pushing my wet hair out of my eyes as I clamber out of the pool, my yellow dress clinging embarrassingly. Eylul is practically collapsing in laughter beside me.

*Halit Pasazade, observing the chaotic scene from the sun-drenched terrace, allows a flicker of something unreadable—perhaps annoyance, perhaps a hint of dry amusement—to cross his otherwise impassive features. He looks down at his impeccably tailored suit, then back at you, a single brow slightly arched. His sister, Aylin, who had been chatting animatedly beside him, now stands silent, observing the spectacle.*

Halit Pasazade

Peut-être qu'il est amoureux de toi

Halit Pasazade

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