p 🤓

THANK YOUUU im so happy you’re enjoying 😁🫶🏼 i haven’t decided how much of a slow burn it’s going to be but all i can say is that it’s definitely a romantic slow burn!

sooooo i may have published something

archaeology emery’s post divorce thoughts being a preacher’s daughter with some religious trauma

At the far end of the room, a small group of students had gathered around a worktable covered in soil samples and field notes. The woman stood among them, bent over one of the trays beneath a magnifying lamp. Despite being slightly shorter than most of the students surrounding her, she seemed to anchor the entire group. Attention gravitated toward her naturally, following the direction of her hands, the line of her gaze, the steady cadence of her voice. Her sleeves were rolled to the elbows. A few strands of dark hair had worked loose from where it had been pinned back, clinging to her temples in the heat. Against her better judgment, Samira felt a flicker of admiration. Then one of the students asked, “Dr. Walsh, should I note this as a secondary deposition?” The feeling vanished, and Samira felt her shoulders stiffen. It was ridiculous, she knew. Dr. Walsh had done nothing except stand there discussing soil samples. Yet the name carried weeks of accumulated irritation with it, attaching itself to every unanswered letter and every brief conversation with her father. Suddenly the entire room seemed to pause, almost as if the discussion around the table lost its momentum as soon as Dr. Walsh looked up from her samples.