*Under reconstruction* Obsession (Sebastian Sallow x O.C)

Chapter 5 - First Kiss 🫣

Spice alert!

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I woke up to a piercing headache, a blurry memory and a feeling of something heavy constricting me.

I was being held down by something—or someone.

I opened my eyes to see Sebastian's bare chest.

Sebastian?

It took some time to process the position we were in.

Where are we?

We both laid on our sides, facing each other. I was engulfed by his embrace. His right arm weighed heavily around my waist, while his left arm became my pillow. His chest rose and fell slowly; a sign that he was fast asleep.

Ah, this looks like my bed...I'm even in my nightgown...

Last night was a blur. I remember drinking Garreth's latest brew; it was much stronger than butterbeer but less sweet, and most probably the reason why I got drunk faster than I had expected.

I also remember meeting Ezrel at the party. We danced and drank some more, and she was telling me how Atticus gave her one of Garreth's brews to try and how he defended her when one of the seventh years tried to hit on her—Living up to his name.

Sebastian stayed by my side, though at some point, I remember seeing him with Violet but the next thing I knew, Sebastian spun me around as we swayed to our own music.

Everything else after that was drawing a blank.

But why is Sebastian in my bed?

I looked up, seeing his sleeping face. I took the chance to fully admire him. His olive skin was finally getting its glow back, the bags under his eyes were still there, and his freckles—my favourite part about his face—I could finally trace constellations on them again.

God, he's handsome.

I unconsciously led my fingers around his face. His brows scrunched up from my touch but he didn't wake up. My fingers continued lightly, tracing the little freckles that decorated his cheeks down to his neck, and then his bare chest.

My fingers stopped.

My eyes widened.

My breath hitched.

Good lord! The muscles on this man!

"Why did you stop, Sweetheart?"

My eyes immediately met his; his morning voice was low and raspy—I wouldn't mind waking up to this every day.

Even with sleepy eyes, I couldn't mistake that mischievous smile of his.

"I'm all yours..." he whispered as he leaned down to kiss my forehead. "You can trace as many constellations as you want on my body, maybe, even make your own."

The heat travelled to my face, my pale skin turning red.

I'm glad my bed curtains were drawn shut; it would have been a mess to have Anne wake up to see her twin in bed with her best friend.