I Almost Said Your Name || Larry

00

"Haz-"

It wasn't the shaking that woke her up, but the deep sigh that had escaped his mouth.

"Hey, you."

More shaking.

"Wake up."

Now she sighs, sitting up before abruptly going back down, pulling the covers infront of her exposed body.

He chuckles.

"We had sex last night. Shy now?" He says.

He lazily takes out a shirt from his closet, but before handing it to her, he clutches it. Staring.

Almost as if he had changed his mind, he threw it back into the large wooden wardrobe and dug around for another shirt.

"Sorry, yours is ah... was used."

The statement had made her crinkle her nose in disgust. What a gentleman.

He dug in some more, glancing back at her every now and then.

When he had finally found a shirt, he passed it to her- soft- almost like it was a fragile relic.

Under the shirt way too big for her, and must be too big for the man aswell, it seems, the cool air from the open window poked at her skin.

"Can you please close the window?" Was all she could say past the hangover.

She didn't realise he was staring at her, furrowing his eyebrows at the familiar sight of the unfamiliar stranger.

"Uh... Oh! Y-yeah. Sorry 'bout that. Was just havin' a smoke."

She nods, "You smoke?"

"Yeah," He chuckles, "Don't like smokers?"

Now she only shakes her head.

"Well it's good that this is just a one time thing then."

They both laugh. However, the man infront of her only replaced it with a deep sigh- as quick as that.

"You okay?" She asks, picking up that he didn't really seem like in the best of moods. She was curious, it seems to him.

"Yeah, yeah. I-" Another sigh. This time short, "I know it's rude to say love, but... you just remind me of someone I used to know."

She laughs, "Don't worry. I'm not sensitive about that stuff," she draws her legs closer to her chest, "It happens."

He smiles, seeming like he was fighting the urge to sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time now.

He knows he should have kept his mouth shut when she asked if he was okay- brushed it off and laughed- called her an Uber or something.

He knows he fucked up when he gave her that shirt- she's not some rebound he can just dress up and play with. This was wrong. He knew that.

He knows he had fucked up and that there was no going back when she scooted in closer, wearing the shirt he had once wore, and said,

"Tell me about her."