Carlos didn’t know that love could feel like sunlight.
He had known fire. He had known the bite of ambition and the quiet ache of loneliness on the long, sleepless nights between races. He had known adrenaline, desire, fleeting touches in the dark, promises that evaporated with the morning dew. But this — whatever this was — felt different. It crept in like dawn, slow and golden, until one day he realized the world had bloomed without him noticing.

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