Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Consciousness gradually seeped into Ollie's weary mind as he found himself caught in the hushed undertones of a conversation drifting through the air. Faint voices reached his ears, dragging him out of his slumber and he rubbed his eyes, groaning at the harsh light streaming in from the open window.
Slowly, he let his bleary eyes flit across his surroundings, studying the very living room of Rosetta's grandparents. It looked a lot livelier—and much, much brighter, to his demise—than what he remembered from the previous night.
His temples throbbed with the echoes of patchy memories. Sunset and photographs. A cute little dinner date. And the street party, where he danced, he drank, and he kissed.
He actually kissed her.
Multiple times.
A stream of giggles trickled out of Ollie's mouth, his face flustering in a tint of heated pink as he closed his eyes, reliving the moment in his head. He could still feel the softness of Rosetta's lips pressed against his own, and her warm, ragged breath mingling with his. The taste of her lingered on his tongue—a dizzying blend of alcohol and the remnants of their dinner. It only added to a sweetness that was unique to her.
He remembered the subtle hesitation that passed through her before she reciprocated, a momentary pause that only heightened the intensity of their shared closeness.
It was a delicate interplay of warmth and tenderness that gave him a bittersweet sensation in his gut, causing a swarm of butterflies to flutter around.
But it all transformed into a different sensation altogether.
Ollie found himself torn between the beauty of that stolen moment and the harsh reality of his current state. The pounding headache, dry mouth, and churning stomach from the previous night's drinking turned it into an unbearable nausea. The more he thought about it, the more it made him want to throw up. He had to take deep breaths to calm down and distract himself from the sick feeling that threatened to overwhelm him.
And he rushed to stand up, only for his foot to land on a soft surface.
"Ow!" the floor shouted, wheezing in pain before it fell into a coughing fit.
Or rather, it was Rosetta that he accidentally stepped on, sending him jumping back to the sofa out of shock.
"Shit, fuck, sorry," he quickly apologised, panicking in fear that he had hurt her, "oh, my god, why are you on the floor?!"
