Her Swimmer

Sneaking

A/N: some SEXUAL CONTENT not a lot because they aren't doing it yet

Alexia wakes to the warmth of someone beside her, the weight of another body in her bed stirring her from a deep, foggy sleep. Her head pounds from last night's drinking, and as her eyes slowly open, a wave of confusion washes over her. The unfamiliar sensation of someone's leg draped over hers, the rise and fall of breath close to her—it's enough to send her into a quiet panic.

What happened last night?

Her mind races, struggling to piece together fragmented memories. She remembers drinking, the laughter, the haze of alcohol clouding her thoughts, and... nothing else.

Did she bring someone home?

Did she really do that?

Her heart thunders in her chest as dread pools in her stomach. No, she wouldn't do that—she couldn't do that.  Not to Talia. Not to her princesa. But here she is, lying in bed with someone, and she can't remember how it happened. Her hands shake slightly as she shifts, trying to move without waking the other person, her body rigid with tension. A knot forms in her throat as the gravity of the situation hits her.

What have I done?

Talia, her mind whispers. Talia, who trusted her. Talia, who believed in her. Talia, who is halfway across the world, thinking Alexia was here, waiting for her, being faithful. Alexia's breath hitches as her panic rises.

Oh god. How could I betray her like this?

Her hands instinctively reach for her phone, but she hesitates, frozen in fear of what she might have to face.

A flood of guilt crashes over her.

She deserves better than this. Better than me.

She can't stop the spiral—her thoughts twist and turn, suffocating her in a whirlwind of self-recrimination. How could she have been so careless? So reckless? Her chest tightens with every beat of her heart as the possibility sinks in.

Did I ruin everything?

What if Talia finds out?

What if she never forgives me?

The thought alone is unbearable. Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her palms against her face in a desperate attempt to stifle the rising panic. She berates herself, mentally tearing into her own foolishness.

You're an idiot, Alexia. How could you?

She bites her lip hard enough to taste blood, the bitterness only adding to her self-loathing.

She sits up slightly, careful not to disturb the person beside her, each movement feeling like a betrayal in itself.

What do I say?

What explanation could possibly make this right?

What if Talia never forgives me? What if I've lost her?

Her breath quickens, and she feels on the verge of breaking down. Her mind races through scenarios, each worse than the last.

What will Talia think of me now?

How could she ever look her in the eyes again?

How could she ever forgive herself?

Then she hears it—that voice.

The one that always calms her, the one that sends warmth coursing through her chest. That beautiful, heavenly voice with the perfect mix of Australian and British accents murmuring, "Lex, stop moving. 'M sleeping."