fake [s.m] (REWRITE)

chapter thirty-one

[anya rose steinburg]
-

the sex was bad.

it was so, unsatisfyingly, bad. it wasn't that shawn didn't know what to do, because he did, he knew a lot, but it was just bad. it was quick, sweaty, and just not sexy or what i pictured it to be at all. it was sloppy, fast, and completely unattractive.

and both of us knew it.

as soon as we had finished, we lay side by side, not talking at all, and shawn ended up falling asleep curled to his side of the bed. i didn't find sleep at all that night. it was partly because of jet lag, but mostly because of how anxious and insecure i felt about the sex. was i really that bad? did we really not have a sexual connection? was everything just childish between us?

i spent the entire night wide awake, debating everything about myself, and everything that could have made the sex so bad. was i overreacting? was i just having a dream? was it really good and i was just thinking of something else? would shawn break up with me because of it?

i turned my head on the pillow, looking at the clock on the wooden bedside table, which read 6am. i sighed gently, turning my head again, seeing shawn still fast asleep, the white sheets tucked up around him, little snores escaping his mouth. i bit my lower lip lightly, feeling tears brim my eyes.

was i really that bad?

i quickly got up from the bed, pulling the silk robe that was crumpled up on the floor over my shoulders, sliding a pair of the hotel room slippers on, and heading straight to the bathroom, turning on the light and staring at my appearance.

there were a few love bites over my neck, my hair was an absolute mess, and there was stray mascara smudged underneath my eyes. i sighed softly at my appearance, before opening the tap, and washing my face, cleaning away all the dirt from the night before. i brush my teeth after that, and attempt to fix my hair by tying it up into a messy bun.

groggily, i stroll back into the room, opening my suitcase, and taking out a fresh pair of underwear, sliding them up my legs, and grabbing my phone from the bedside table, before walking outside to the balcony, shutting the room door behind me.

the sun was just rising in the distance, and sky was a perfect sunrise; hints of purple, pink, and orange lining the blank canvas, the clear sea reflecting the colours of the sky, making everything seem so magical. the rooms around us were quite far away, shawn had made sure to book a very private villa, secluded away from the rest of the resort, which i was glad about because we were finally getting some sort of privacy for the first time in a good six months.

"morning," i hear behind me, making me jump slightly, as i see shawn walk over, taking a seat on the lounger next to me, stretching his legs out and sighing softly.

"hey," i mumble, looking at him, as his eyes go beady and soft, the caramel pools turning into pure sorrow. "you okay?"

"yeah, you?" he breathes out, the tension between us uncanny.

"yeah," i hum, turning my head back to the scenery, shortly before looking down at my lap.

"babe..." shawn trails off, sighing softly as he sits up, shuffling closer to me. "we need to talk about last night."

"i know, i know, i just-" i sigh again, looking back at him. "i thought it would be so much more better than it was- not that you were bad or anything, because you weren't, i just- i don't know- i don't know where i'm going with this," i mumble, my head spinning, and a migraine coming upon me.