HEAT |OMEGAVERSE| ⚣ ✔️

The Morning After

My eyes flutter open, staring blankly at the pristine white ceiling above me. Early morning light filters through the thin curtains, casting soft, golden hues across the room. And immediately, I feel an ache in every muscle and joint in my body.

Fuck. Ouch.

I stretch my limbs across the bed, my muscles protesting from the critical hits I endured yesterday. Each movement sends a dull ache through my body, a reminder of the previous day's ordeal. 

A deep yawn escapes me as I sit up weakly, my gaze sweeping across the room. This one, like the rest, is as bland as plain toast. One thing I can't help but notice is the excessive amount of space surrounding me, this bed is easily double the size of my own at home.

I scoot toward the edge, slowly moving my legs over the side and resting my feet on the plush, cream-colored carpet below. The softness of it contrasts sharply with the cold, hard floor I'm used to. 

Lacking strength in my lower half, I struggle to stand but manage to grab hold of the nightstand beside me for leverage. 

Normally, I don't steal clothes from people, but I also don't want to walk out into this man's kitchen stark naked. I limp over to the closet across from the bed, opening it and rummaging through the contents. The closet is well-organized, with clothes neatly hung and shoes lined up at the bottom. I find a large pair of dark grey sweatpants and snag a black T-shirt from a hanger. The fabric is soft and smells faintly of detergent.

After dressing myself, I creep over to the door left ajar and open it all the way. Stepping through it quietly, the silence in all directions is almost deafening. The space is dimly lit, with framed artwork lining the walls. I sigh in momentary relief, no stranger in immediate sight. 

I'm still unsure how he'll react to me the morning after what could have been a tragic night of events for him. Though... during it he didn't seem so... bothered. A bit of red flushes across my face at the fresh memory.

As I turn the corner, my eye catches a small framed photo of the same young girl I noticed from before on a side table. Her bright smile and sparkling eyes momentarily distract me, and I wonder who she is and what her connection is to this place. The sight of her innocent smile brings a sense of comfort.

The sound of melodic beeping interrupts my thoughts, drawing my attention to the counter where the sink is located. Below it, to the right side, I spot a dishwasher flashing a small white light. I open it, and steam rolls out from the small crack. As I pull out the top rack, I reach for a glass. 

After filling said glass beneath the faucet, taking a few rather large swigs, I set the cup back on the counter.

"Jeez, thirsty much?" An unfamiliar voice chimes from behind me, yet after last night, I knew whose it was. Still, though, the suddenness of it makes my whole body jolt as I jump, making my already weak legs debate whether they can still hold me up.

"Sorry." He chuckles, the sound deep and warm.

"I see you found some clothes." My gaze watches his hand, gesturing to the shirt and sweats stolen from his closet.

My face heats up as I blush, eyes glued to my bare feet, feeling embarrassed. And I fidget with the edge of the t-shirt I wear, a slight bag to it, probably only a size too big.