what are we? ~ Jordan Riki

'3'

      "I missed you to Jordan.."

Amaia and Jordan lock eye contact..the drinks are really taking a toll on their actions as Jordan puts his fingers on her chin. "Gosh you've always been gorgeous.." Jordan says shamelessly as he looks at Amaia, his eyes full of desire. 

Amaia chuckles softly with a faint blush on her face "oh really Jordan..?" Jordan nods as he examines her face taking in every detail 

"Mhm..." Jordan murmurs, his gaze locking with Amaia's once more, Amaia holds his stare, a quiet tension building between them as her breath catches ever so slightly

For a moment, neither of them moves, the world outside fading as they remain locked in that shared gaze.

The air around them thick with anticipation, as if the smallest shift could change everything, and yet neither of them knows whether to close the distance or let the fragile moment stay like this,

The slightly awkward air between them crackles with unspoken desire, and as Jordan moves just a fraction closer, the heat from his body makes Amaia's heart race—his gaze flicking to her lips, then back to her eyes he looks like he wants something.

All of a sudden, a slight grin tugs at Jordan's lips, his eyes glimmering with a mix of mischief and something deeper, as he tilts his head just enough to close the distance between them, his voice low and teasing as he murmurs

 "You know, I've been wondering how long it would take for one of us to make the first move"

 his gaze flickering to Amaia's lips before meeting her eyes again, as if daring her to make a choice as Amaia chuckles 

"Usually I think the men make the first move Jordan.." Amaia says sarcastically 

A stupid grin spreads across Jordan's face as he moves closer, his hands finding her cheek, "like this?" Jordan says and before she can say another word, he pulls her in for a kiss.

A jolt of electricity shoots through Amaia as his lips press against hers, soft but insistent. Her breath catches for a moment, her heart racing before she responds slowly at first.

But then with a growing intensity. Jordans hand slides to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, pulling her just a little closer, deepening the kiss.

 Amaia can taste the warmth of Jordan, feel the tension in the air between them, and for a brief second, the world outside seems to disappear.

When they finally break apart, both are breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Jordan's grin hasn't faded, but there's something softer in his eyes now—something almost shy, or maybe vulnerable.

"Better?" Jordan asks, his voice a little rougher than usual.

She meets his gaze a flicker of surprise still in her chest. "Definitely," Amaia whispers, though she's not sure if she's talking about the kiss or the way everything suddenly feels different.

THE MORNING AFTER 

Amaia wakes to a dull, relentless throb in her head. Her eyes flutter open, but the light streaming in through the curtains is blinding a sharp contrast to the heavy, almost suffocating weight of the room. She groans, trying to adjust, but every movement seems to make the pain in her skull worse.

She blinks a few times, trying to focus. Sitting up slowly, her body feels stiff and heavy. She holds her head in her hands for a moment, wishing for the world to stop spinning.

 Amaia's memories of the night before are nothing but scattered flashes—Laughter, drinking with family, the warmth of a hand on her cheek... and then nothing. It's like a hole in her mind, a gap she can't quite reach.

Her stomach churns. She rolls to her side, desperate to find something stable, and as her gaze shifts, her heart skips a beat.

A bare back. Muscular, inked, and familiar.

Her eyes trace the tattoo that arcs across the skin, delicate yet bold. Aroha.

The word stirs something inside her, a feeling vague that lingers like a half-remembered dream. She blinks again, trying to make sense of the situation. Her breath catches when the realization hits her. That tattoo... it belongs to Jordan.

Her pulse quickens.

What happened last night? How had she ended up here, in bed with him? And why can't she remember anything after a certain point?

 She swears it's was just a family barbecue..or something like that. She watches Jordan's back rise and fall with steady breaths. He's still asleep, his body turned slightly away from her, making the tattoo stand out even more.

She feels a flutter of something in her chest—anxiety, guilt, maybe—though she can't say for sure what it is.

Her mind races as she tries to piece together fragments of the night. Had they...? Surely not.

She winces, the throbbing in her head growing sharper. No. She can't focus on that. Not yet.

Taking a deep breath she shifts carefully, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, Amaia then realises the clothes on the floor and how she actually has nothing on, her eyes widen as she grabs onto the mattress, shit.

She looks over at Jordan again, his face still hidden, his hair tousled, his body sprawled lazily in the sheets. A twinge of warmth flickers in her chest. Despite the confusion and the pounding headache, a small smile tugs at her lips.

But then, the anxiety creeps back. What if he remembers everything? What if she doesn't? Clearly they got up to some...things last night that she can't quite remember.

She stands slowly, wobbling for a moment grabbing her clothes and putting them back on, a bra, a black hoodie, and underwear and jeans. Not exactly comfortable but oh well.

Amaia makes her way toward the bathroom. As she passes the mirror, she catches her reflection: her hair wild and messy, her eyes a little too wide—like she's seeing herself for the first time.

She leans herself against the sink. Amaia scratches her neck and it slightly pulls down her hood revealing obvious hickeys. Far out..

The sound of soft movement from the bedroom, she pokes her head out from the bathroom that's connected with the bedroom.

It makes her turn her head. Jordan stirs, his body shifting beneath the sheets. She freezes, her pulse spiking, half-expecting him to wake up and say something.

But instead, he just mumbles something in his sleep, his voice low and familiar.

"Amaia..."

about time I put this up gosh anyway I HOPE THIS PART WAS GOOD!!  

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