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Nasir stirred in his sleep, the unfamiliar stiffness of the mattress pulling him from his dreams. It wasn't his California King bed, that much was clear. This one was smaller, the sheets less luxurious, and the faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air—a scent that wasn't his but hers. The memories of the night before hit him like a wave, and as his eyes fluttered open, he glanced around the room, piecing together where he was and how he ended up there.
Aria slept soundly beside him, her body tangled in the sheets, hair spread wildly across the pillow. Nasir glanced at her, unable to stop himself from admiring how peaceful she looked. Memories of the night flooded back—how they left the club and ended up here, at her apartment, where things escalated further. They'd gone multiple rounds, matching each other's energy until Aria finally tapped out by the third. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he leaned back against the headboard, shaking his head at how the night had unfolded. This definitely wasn't how he imagined spending the rest of his birthday, but he wasn't complaining. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed his phone, the screen dimly lighting up to show a near-dead battery.
Nasir scrolled through his notifications, stopping at the message from Camille.
Mrs Carter 💍: Good morning. I woke up, and you weren't next to me 🥺. I figured you crashed at Jason's—I know how hard he parties. Call me when you wake up ❤️.
He let out a deep sigh, running a hand over his face as the weight of the situation settled in. His eyes shifted between the glowing screen and Aria, still peacefully asleep beside him. The guilt crept into his chest, heavier with every passing second as he reread Camille's message. Her warmth and care, so evident in her words, contrasted starkly with the reality of where he was—and who he was with.
