The Russian Bondage | Zarry

Chapter : 07

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Kyra's look

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I woke up with a pounding headache, feeling like my brain was doing a drum solo in my skull. Groaning, I tried to open my eyes, but the sunlight was like a laser beam directly into my retinas.

I squinted, cursing the sun, and attempted to shield my face with my hand. Slowly, I sat up, leaning back against the headboard and rubbing my temples. My head was spinning, and I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.

Wait... where the hell am I?

I blinked a few times, taking in my surroundings. My room. Thank God, at least I was in my own room. But then I felt something weird-like a breeze.

Confused, I lifted the duvet, and holy hell, I was practically naked except for... black panties? My eyes widened in pure horror as I stared down at the lacy abomination I had put it on last night underneath my sophisticated black suit.

I checked the clock-11 AM. Great, not only was I hungover and confused, but I'd managed to sleep half the day away.

And then it hit me-last night. Zayn. The sneaking into my dad's office. The kiss. And then... nothing. I remember fainting, or something close to it. My heart started racing as I pieced together the jumbled memories. Did Zayn put me to bed?

"Oh my God..." I muttered to myself, suddenly feeling very exposed under the duvet. What the hell happened after I passed out?

I scrambled out of bed, tossing the duvet aside, desperately looking for my phone. It was on the nightstand, right where I'd left it, but there was something else. A piece of paper, folded neatly underneath the phone. My stomach did a little flip as I snatched it up and unfolded it.

And there, at the bottom of the letter, was Zayn's name.

Of course. Of course he left me a note like we're in some dramatic movie. My heart was racing, a mix of panic and curiosity clawing at me.

What the hell did he write? What the hell did he do? And most importantly What the hell I do?

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.
.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, I ran a hand through my hair, tucking it behind my ear as I stared at the letter. My heart was already doing somersaults, but I had to read it.

What the hell did he write? I unfolded the paper, bracing myself for whatever disaster Zayn had decided to put into words.

Harry,

Don't panic when you wake up...

Too late for that. I was practically vibrating with anxiety.

When we were kissing, I'm not sure what happened, but you fainted-maybe too much wine?

I rolled my eyes. Of course, I would faint during a makeout session. How very "Harry" of me. I groaned, my fingers pressing against my temples.

I took you to your room, but the moment we got inside, you puked all over yourself.

Ugh! Great. Just what I needed to hear. I facepalmed dramatically, already mortified by what came next.

So, I had to change you out of your clothes, and while doing that... I noticed you were wearing black panties.