She hated him. He hated her. And that was alright in their world until one night. Everything changed then, conversations exchanged between drags of a shared cigarette having developed a mutual respect between enemies.
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Slowburn enemies to frie...
The morning is freezing cold. I hunker down as close as possible to the man sleeping in bed next to me. His body is wrapped around mine, still, fast asleep. I don't open my eyes, unwilling to face the blurry vision and migraine that comes with a hangover.
It seems as though my Halloween goals were triumphant. I'll open my eyes and sneak back home before he wakes, us destined never to see each other again. I smile, thinking I've gotten away with the perfect plan.
The man beside me groans, removing his arm from around me and rolling over. I take the opportunity to open my eyes and begin my silent retreat. I look around the room. Square patterned wallpaper reflects the agonizing sunlight seeping through the blinds right into my eyes. I curse in discomfort. I peel the blue comforter off my body, not bothering to turn back to look at the boy next to me. I instead focus on locating my dress, which I find in the corner of the room by a desk. It's odd; this room smells and feels... familiar in a weird way? I turn around to view my surroundings, locating my undergarments and heels. I don't manage to collect either, as curiosity piques my interest. I lean over the bed as quietly as possible, observing the lucky fellow who brought me home with him last night.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I scream, clutching the dress to my body in an attempt to cover as much as possible of my body.
Steve is wide awake now, fumbling in a mess of blankets out of bed. He braces himself for an intruder but finds me cowering in the corner of his room. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" I retort.
Steve opens his arms, looking around frantically. "This is my house?"
"No, it can't be. I went home with a guy last night..." I mumble, confused. My memory is more or less nonexistent from last night, with only fragmented pieces here and there I can recall. The blood drains from my face. "Did I... Did we...?" I wonder aloud.
Steve stares at me, shaking his head in disbelief. No fucking way this is happening. I begin frantically searching underneath discarded clothes and in the blankets strewn about. I do my best to keep my dress in place as I do this.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"Looking for evidence that we used protection,"
This gets Steve's attention, and he begins searching with me. "AHA! Got it!" he cheers, holding up an empty condom wrapper he picked up from the floor.
