MY MOON

CHAPTER 7: ALEX

As I checked the time, a sudden wave of realisation hit me—I had a meeting scheduled for 8:30, right smack in the middle of the cocktail party which is at 8. Talk about bad timing. I really didn't want to let Alya down, especially after she waited around for me yesterday. So, I figured I'd better give her a heads up.

I swung by her room, hoping to catch her before she leave off to the party. But, typical, she wasn't there. Instead, there was this cute note on her desk. "Why'd you barge into my room?" it read, with a hint of playfulness.

But, she left me her whereabouts: "off to the ballroom to make sure everything was in order. And will be getting ready in the green room." Nice.

I left her a text message about the meeting, and her response was straight to the point: "I don't care if you're fashionably late, just show up, even if it's just for 10 minutes." Now can't argue with that.

So, despite the crazy schedule. I decided to make it to that cocktail party, even if it was just for a quick hi and bye and I owed it to her to at least make an appearance.

As I rushed to wrap up the meeting as swiftly as I could, the clock mocked me with its relentless march towards midnight. 12:10 AM flashed ominously, a stark reminder of how late it had become. Alya would be so disappointed.

However, as I hastily donned my tuxedo and made my way downstairs to the ballroom hopping the party is still going on.

Yet, as I stepped into the deserted ballroom, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The room was empty, save for a lone waiter clearing away the remnants of the festivities. Where could Alya have gone? Panic gnawed at the edges of my consciousness as I scanned the room for any sign of her presence.

Then, from behind me, her voice cut through the silence like a knife. "Why did you even bother to come?" she said, her tone a mixture of disappointment and frustration.

Turning to face her, I was momentarily stunned by her appearance. Alya stood before me, Her gown, a stunning combination of golden black ball gown, hugged her curves in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. With each movement, the fabric seemed to caress her skin, teasingly revealing glimpses of the woman beneath. I couldn't tear my gaze away, the way she held herself with an effortless grace that left me breathless.

As my gaze lingered on her lips, painted a shade of red so vivid it seemed almost sinful, a surge of heat washed over me. I could imagine the taste of her, the softness of her mouth pressed against mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine at the mere thought.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—the empty ballroom, the late hour, even the consequences of giving in to this forbidden desire. All that existed was her, standing before me like a vision, a beacon of warmth and light in the darkness of the night.

"Beautiful!" I blurted out, unable to contain the awe that swept over me at the sight of Alya in her stunning attire.

"I know, but why are you even here?" Alya's words came out slowly, slurred, making me wonder if she had in a bit too much of alcohol.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, my tone firm, concern lacing my words.

"Why do you care? You missed your own sister's cocktail party. I had a lot of fun, danced and all too," she replied in a drunken manner, her words slightly disjointed.

As she stepped closer, her breath warm against my ear, she whispered, "And there was this guy who kept on flirting with me."

A surge of possessiveness washed over me at the thought of someone else daring to flirt with her. I clenched my jaw, fighting back the urge to tear that guy then and there. But Alya was more important in that moment, and I couldn't let my feelings get the better of me.