𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝟔 | 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

song: justine skye - collide

° ☆ 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐚 ☆ °

As I lay on the plush sofa, enveloped in a hazy warmth, I reflect on the events of the evening. The man beside me, a near-stranger, that goes by Dylan, has shown an unexpected tenderness, escorting me to his home with a protective care that both comforts and bewilders me. His gestures, though simple, speak volumes - from the gentle sweep of his arms as he carried me, bridal style, to his car, to the sturdy support he provided in the elevator to prevent my unsteady steps.

I can't help but marvel at the contrast between the dimly lit interior of his apartment and the vibrant chaos of the night outside. The soft glow of the lamps casts a warm ambiance over the space, lending a sense of intimacy to our surroundings.

Lost in thought, I barely register his question about water until it registers as a distant echo in my mind. With a grateful nod, I accept his offer, the cool liquid a welcome reprieve from the lingering haze of alcohol.

"And feel free to shower, just please don't drown." He snickers while leaning down on his knees, supporting my head. I laugh at his sentence. I look to the side and notice his slightly concerned face.

"I promise I won't." I giggle and try to get up. He gently grabs my arm and helps me up, steadying me.

"You should really set a limit for your drinks, dummy." Dylan tells me and I fully agree, so I just smile in response.

His voice, rich and resonant, cuts through the air, drawing my attention. His words carry a hint of amusement, and I can't help but chuckle softly in agreement. Despite the fog of alcohol clouding my senses, I find solace in his presence, a reassuring anchor in the midst of my disorientation.

As he releases me, his hand falls away, leaving a fleeting warmth in its wake. "The bathroom is behind the first door to the right," he directs, his gesture precise and courteous.

With a nod of gratitude, I set off towards the indicated direction, my steps wavering slightly as I navigate the unfamiliar surroundings. Before I can make it far, however, my foot catches on a stray object, and I stumble forward, only to be caught by Dylan's swift reflexes.

His touch is gentle yet firm as he steadies me, his fingers grazing my cheek in a fleeting caress. "A bit clumsy when you're drunk?" he remarks, his tone laced with a teasing edge.

I offer a sheepish smile in response, acknowledging my momentary lapse in grace. "Just a tiny bit," I admit, my voice tinged with amusement as he guides me onward with a steady hand.

"I will prepare some clothes for you in the bedroom. Do you prefer hoodies or t-shirts?" He asks politely.

"Any will do." I answer with an innocent smile. Then I head to the bathroom.

I find the place, and admire it. The sleek, modern design of the bathroom envelops me as I step into the shower, the dazzling brightness almost overwhelming. Shedding my dress, I carefully fold it atop the cabinet, the cool surface a stark contrast against my skin. With a soft sigh, I immerse myself under the steady stream of water, the gentle cascade washing away the remnants of the night's indulgence.

Surveying the array of products before me, I opt for the first soap within reach, its scent distinctly masculine yet oddly comforting. As I lather my skin, I can't help but marvel at the underrated appeal of men's grooming essentials, their robust fragrances permeating the air with a sense of rugged allure. Mindful not to soak my long locks, I proceed with the task at hand, the rhythmic flow of the water soothing my senses.