Vows of Misfortune

42.

Arshia's POV:

My eyes cracked open in the middle of the night, feeling a cold wind of sorts pushing through my damp hair. My blurry vision in the dark focused on the figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

It was Romir. He was half-naked, his back to me as he leaned forward. It looked like he was thinking about something. Not able to open my mouth and grab his attention, I fell back asleep.

When I woke again, I stirred, stretching my arms over my head but feeling a lot less clothed than I usually did. Forcing open my groggy eyes, I turned my head to see that I was on Romir's side of the pillow. He wasn't there this time. My hair was still a little damp and I was wearing a white shirt that was insanely big on me, swallowing my arms and ending mid thigh.

I was wearing Romir's shirt? Wh—

Flashes of water dripping down our faces, his wet, cold lips moving over mine stopped my panicked internal rant. I remembered being in the shower with him.

And that was when it clicked.

We had sex.

I slapped my hands over my face and stared up at the ceiling, my mouth agape. Every touch, every look, every breath, every kiss...I...I had never felt so reassured, so loved in the way he had treated me.

Heat built up from the top of my scalp down to my curled toes.

"No way," I whispered. "Romir and I had sex."

Okay. Shut up. I sounded like a child, seriously.

But I couldn't help it.

I had to say it aloud for it to be real. I mean it certainly felt real. I remembered his kisses and the burning trail of his hands.

I remembered the words we had exchanged right before. He had said he didn't like me. That he wasn't interested. So did I push him to do this?

Was I the only one that wanted to do it?

I couldn't get any more pathetic. The high that I'd felt thinking about it now made me cringe. If that were the case then how would I be able to look him in the eye? We were supposed to forget about it, but...but could I really?

What time is it? I needed to get up. I needed to forget about this ever happening and move on like how it was originally meant to be. I tried to find my phone, but it wasn't anywhere on the table or on the bed. I flung the sheets away from me and placed my feet on the floor only for something cold to touch the sole of my foot.

Looking down, there was my phone. How did it get on the floor? I bent down to grab it. I glanced at myself in the closet mirror. I looked kind of cute in Romir's shirt. My disheveled hair was on the road to drying.

I changed into my own clothes and tried to look presentable in case I bumped into Romir. Which I really didn't want. I opened the door, and looked both ways before creeping toward the kitchen. I needed some tea to calm my nerves down.

"Morning," came the voice. He was sitting on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table. Oops, I hadn't even realised he was there.

"Uh," I stuttered, "morning."

Was I normal? Of course, I was probably acting like a weirdo. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed myself as I turned back around. Peering around the strands of my hair, Romir looked like he did any other weekend.

Relaxed. He took a sip of his coffee, nothing in his expression even giving away the fact that we had done something—crossed a line of some sort that changed our relationship—just a few hours ago.