Always Is Not Forever (Breaking Myself - Part II)

9. The One Where I Take Control

[ A L I N A ' S P O V ]

Heavy pounding.

It felt heavy when I fluttered my eyes open. Everything felt heavy. My bones, my eyes, my heart and my throat.

Shielding my eyes from the light pouring through the window, I turned to block the cruel rays. I took in the intense smell of the sheets, the softness residing under my body and the rich smell of plants covering the room.

My eyes flew open.

It wasn't Kriti's room. She had no floor to ceiling window, covered by the plants in the balcony. And her mattress didn't feel too soft, and this smell. I was aware of it.

I sat up on the seat, taking in the room I was sleeping in. Kabir's room. What was I doing here? My head. The pounding increased, throwing itself on the walls of my head.

I caught it between my hands, hoping it would slide.

Removing the blanket, I found I was wearing a red shirt. It wasn't mine shirt, and from what it stopped, I could gather it was Kabir's shirt.

Standing up carefully, I wore the slippers placed next to the bed. Too large for me. Clutching my head, I walked out of the room.

"Kabir, my head," I complained, strolling to his living room.

Maybe I should've rested and heard the voices, heard what was going around me before coming out of the room. Four people stared at me, eyes widely opened and mouth gaped.

"Alina," Deb started. "What are you doing here and-" His eyes flew to my outfit. "Nice outfit," He smirked.

"That's why Kabir wasn't letting us enter his room," Sagar interrupted. "You were there."

"So, drinks do work," Shikha smirked.

What was the time? His friends weren't supposed to come before three for the group study they were going to do on Saturday.

"Bookworm," I heard his voice from behind. "You're awake." He stood next to me, but he wasn't close enough yet. When I peered at him, he looked fine and no sign of what had happened last night appeared. I remembered everything, remembered telling him a tiny little part of my past, remembered crying on his shoulders, remembered how he removed my lens.

His gaze skidded to his friends.

"Come with me. Excuse us." He caught my hand, dragging me back to his room. "Your clothes are in there." He pointed his finger to the duffel bag placed in the corner of the bed. "Kriti left them in the morning. And how's your head?"

"Worse," I mumbled, grabbed the chair from his study table and sat down.

"You sleep too much," He commented, curling his lips at the side. "It's four in the evening."

"What?" I almost shouted.

He nodded. "You should change. It's very distracting to see you in my clothes." My gaze slid to the shirt, resting on my mid-thigh. His eyes burned, and I ignored the fact I knew I was leaving on him. My head hurt too much.

"Can I use your shower?" He nodded.

"Extra brushes are in the cabinet, and the towels are stocked up. Fresh towels." He knew I hated used towels. "And anything you want would be on the right side of the shower. Do you want me to explain the system? It's complicated."

I waved my hand off. "I'll manage. I had the same in mine bathroom." I blushed, tapping my feet on the floor. I spent a night here, in his bedroom, in his clothes. "Where did you slept last night?"