False Confidence

Crushed

Azriel Huang

It felt like this morning, for the very first time, I had no qualms with rising from where I laid.

The sun whispered me awake and the heat of the blanket made it easy to will my limbs into motion.  I sat up languorously, stretching contently like a lazy cat would on its high scratching post. With the constant smug air to them, as if they were better with every motion naturally, as right as the rise and drop of the moon in the sky.

I glanced around to find that Wren was no where insight.

Wren.

The thought initiated a fierce heat in my cheeks, as well as my ears. Usually I had no shame when it came to that department, no less kissing, but around him I felt vulnerable as if it was my first time doing anything. I was still left raw with the roller coaster of emotions I had experienced with Wren, ranging from burning hatred, frustration and annoyance to lust, fondness and joy.

I quickly stamped out the embarrassment, observing Wren's room to his rumpled covers that I had comfortably rested in. The gum packet on the nightstand was absent as well as his sweatshirt. Puzzled, I got up from the bed, throwing back his heavy blankets.

I was ready to creep out of the room but realized I was wearing no shirt. I flushed under the realization that it must've been taken off in the haze of last night. We hadn't gone past that but it felt much more intimate than any sloppy hookup I've had, even if all we did was touch and kiss.

Usually, I'd have no problem with walking around my own house with no shirt to wear or even pants- but alas there were stragglers always and maybe even the clean up crew that I hired for every morning after a night like before.

I whipped my head left and right to spot the sports shirt he had lent me last night but to no avail. I opted for saving myself the feckless effort and walking to his closet. Cracking the door to it open, a small noise of surprise slipped from my mouth when no clothes were hanging from the bar and no garments littered the shelves. It was cleared of everything save for a small container of safety pins discarded on the lowest shelf along with a crumpled receipt.

I slowly backed up, whirling to exit the room. As soon as I left the premises of his apartments, his scent was gone and even with the creeping anxiety I felt with his missing clothing, I longed for it still. Even if he was promised to another.

I could enjoy him well enough before I had to hand him over to his mate. What we were doing was purely physical anyways. There was no way I'd every consider his infuriating ass romantically.

Though every touch of our lips was branded into my brain.

I mindlessly touched my lips in memory before shaking myself back into focus. When walking from the hall that held his room, it was vividly clear that no remnants of the party remained. Everything was back to its state, the air heady with the smell of cleaner. Shocked, my eyes quickly found the large clock on the mantle and realized it was as late as 12:34.

That must've meant that the cleaners had arrived and gotten to work with tidying up the house and kicking out any left over people. All while I had slept the day away with the lasting effects of tardis. I shuddered at the mere thought of the drug, a crawling sensation working up my body with all that had happened to me and could've happened to me. Even though the prospect made me want to curl in on myself like a shriveling piece of paper caught aflame, the mystery of Wren's clothes and him overall still needed to be figured out.

I crept around, expecting him to jump out of a corner with an armful of my favorite muffins to comfort my weary mind, but he didn't. I checked the kitchen and there was no Wren cooking breakfast with nothing but his boxers and apron. Still confused and anxious, I made my way to my room slowly, warding off all the worst-case-scenarios that had nagged at me. It wasn't wrong of me to think poorly of the situation, the whole missing wardrobe thing wasn't something to be taken lightly.