The Only Blossoming Flower

Chapter 13: "What Happened Last Night?"

"Hurts like hell..."

Unwelcome, the chirping songs of morningbirds entered my ears pleasantly with its sweet melody. I deepened my weight upon the utterly bouncy mattress I surrendered myself to, indulging lazily at the soft cushions and smoothly textured blanket that embraced my body sweetly. I couldn't ignore the throbbing migraine grinding my entire head like I was just slapped by a hot iron, it hurt, really hurt. With much effort, I turned my body facing the ceiling, groaning heavily as I did. However, I did not face the usual white ceiling- but rather once I opened my eyes, it was crimson colored... just like Guy's hair...

Wait, Guy? The thought of that idiot suddenly appeared in head first thing on this rather odious morning.

Without notice upon my own consciousness, my body abruptly stood up. My fists clenching tightly on the satin sheets, with meticulous gesture- my eyes scan the room I was supposedly in;
Red furniture, red carpet, golden-red chandeliers, red curtains, then I looked at the bed I was previously laying soundfully comfortable in. It was red; the sheets, the cushions, the bed curtains... I don't have bed curtains in my room- let alone red wouldn't be my color of choice to decorate.

"Good morning Mr. Sleeping beauty." The terrifyingly, absolutely familiar voice cut in my range of thoughts. That intoxicating smuggish tone always so full of himself.

"If my guess is right and that is Guy... I'm gonna kill myself."
Slowly but surely, I turn my head to the left. Each millimeter of twisting my neck ached, adding further to the piercing pain above my ears.

Unfortunately, my guess is right.

His head tilted slightly to the side as his loosely tied bun seductively draped over his forehead as it fell elegantly over his shoulders, trickling down fresh water drops. His half lidded eyes glaring at me like prey waiting patiently for just the right timing to devour me whole. Tall and lean, sculpted by the finest of sculptors with a refined, almost aristocratic physique- not bulky, instead well-defined and elegant. His bare frame carries strength as his crimson bathrobe-as red as his silky voluptuous locks loosely slips over his broad shoulders that could assert dominance over me. That narrow waist of his sharpening his silhouette with utter welcoming.

There's an unsettling force in how effortless his beauty is, bending the air with his mere presence alone. With a dangerously intimate grin that always plastered his face, uncalculated, unchanging, yet elegant in every angle. His features carved flawlessly to conjure a face so majestic no artist could ever fully capture such descriptions of his unwavering appearance.

The confidence he carries himself with is not born by arrogance, but of absolute self-awareness-and the cockiness flavored in his tone to back it up with...-

"What's with the long stare at my chest?" He speaks-smooth and deliberate.

I turned my gaze away from Guy, I couldn't help the thought running through my head by the mere sight of him... Wait, why the hell am I in his bed? This room is red like the color that symbolizes him, so that makes this room his.

I woke up with an excruciating migraine, something I've never felt in a long time and the last thing I remember from last night is being dead drunk... If I am in his room then that means...-
-I'M NOT A VIRGIN ANYMORE???"

No no no no no no, that can't be... We wouldn't have... I wouldn't have...

Raphael-sensei, did something happen last night?

>>...<<

Is she inactive? That's never happened before ... or is she just ignoring me?