Heartless (Completed)

Chapter 44

WARNING: R-18

Chapter 44

I woke up feeling dazed and weak. My head throbbed with a fierce pain, as if it had been struck by a baseball bat. My eyes begged for sleep, yearning to retreat into the darkness, but the light creeping through the curtains betrayed me. With a swift movement, I rolled onto my side, and an unmistakable scent of masculinity wafted up from the pillow beneath my head. I blinked rapidly, my heart racing, and jolted upright.

Oh my God! This is not my room!

I hastily threw off the covers, and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. I was wearing a man's t-shirt, and thankfully, my underwear was still on. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Okay, I can work with that.

What happened last night? The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, sending shockwaves through my mind. I squeezed my head, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of last night's events. Memories flooded in, chaotic and blurry.

I had gotten drunk and wasted. I came face to face with Elisse, and then I bumped into a guy... My eyes widened in horror. Oh no! Who was that guy? Did he bring me here? Is this his room? His house? Whatever this is?

Just as I was about to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the door swung open, and time seemed to freeze. My lips parted in shock, my mind struggling to comprehend the scene before me. He stood there, looking fresh and undeniably attractive, as if he had just stepped out of the shower, his hair still damp and tousled.

"Hi," he said, his tone flat and devoid of emotion. There was no smile, no warmth—just a casual greeting, as if I were a stranger to him.

I was speechless, lost in the haze of confusion.

"I'm here to give you this." He extended a water bottle and some Advil towards me. I stared at him, my mind still foggy. When he realized I was still disoriented, he set the items down on the bedside table.

As he turned to leave, reality snapped back into focus, and I managed to stammer out, "How... How did I get here?" My voice was barely a whisper, shaky and hesitant. He paused, turning to face me.

"You bumped into me last night and passed out. I informed your parents. I also texted Desiree. So don't worry. The maid cleaned you up last night and changed your clothes," he explained, his expression serious.

So, he was the guy I bumped into? I struggled to recall his face, but the memory was elusive—just out of reach.

I bit my lip, a sense of dread washing over me. "D-Did I say anything last night?" I asked, my voice trembling with worry. What if I had done something utterly ridiculous in front of him? The mere thought made me want to sink into the ground and disappear, a wave of embarrassment crashing over me.

"No, nothing," he replied, his tone flat and distant.

I glanced at him, startled by the change in his demeanor. He seemed so different, almost like a stranger.

"Okay," I managed to say, but inside, a storm of emotions brewed. There were countless things I wanted to express, questions I longed to ask him, yet my tongue felt like lead, weighing down my thoughts. It was as if the very air around us thickened with unspoken words, and I felt utterly powerless, especially under the coldness of his gaze.

"I'll just get you something to eat. Drink that," he said, his voice devoid of warmth as he turned to leave. It felt like a sharp knife piercing my chest, and I struggled to breathe as I watched him walk away, my heart sinking deeper with every step he took.