A Million Little Things

Chapter eight

My surroundings were strange struck me abruptly, my ceiling wasn't beige, the ceiling didn't have a chandelier like that. With a sudden jolt, I sat up, my gaze swiftly shifting to the left, where floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking skyline of towering buildings. Curiosity led me to glance towards my right, where a glass door beckoned, revealing a walk-in wardrobe.

Where am I?

Throwing the comforter off my legs, I rose from the bed, my eyes immediately drawn to the sight of my attire. I was wearing a black shirt that definitely didn't belong to me. Panic surged through me as the realization hit - it was a man's shirt.

Driven by the urgency to escape this unfamiliar place, I sprinted towards the door, my heart pounding in my chest. With a burst of energy, I flung it open, desperate to leave as quickly as possible. The need to find familiarity and regain a sense of security propelled me forward, determined to discover my way out before my panic would settle deep inside me.

As I made my way, guided by the sound of clashing utensils, a familiar aroma of scrambled eggs permeated the air. The scent triggered memories of Sunday mornings when my dad would prepare this dish for breakfast. A sense of relief washed over me, suspecting that it might be Siddharth in the kitchen. However, this still didn't explain why I found myself wearing his shirt and nothing underneath it.

As I turned the corner, I came face to face with the sight of a half-naked man, his back turned towards me. Instantly, I recognized that this was not Siddharth. Mesmerized, I couldn't help but watch as his back muscles flexed with each movement of his arms. He seemed engrossed in something in front of him, unaware of my presence. For a moment, I stood there, captivated by the view, momentarily forgetting about the perplexing situation I found myself in.

I remained transfixed, the sun's rays casting an enchanting glow upon him, highlighting every detail. As his fingers ran through his thick, dark locks, I couldn't help but be mesmerized. It felt as though I was caught in a trance, captivated by his presence. The sheer allure he exuded was overwhelming, stirring a mix of desire and fascination within me. The man was made out of every woman's wet dream.

Just as in the dramatic moments of Indian television serials, he turned around, causing my eyes to fixate on his midsection, wondering if he possessed a well-defined, toned stomach with a tantalizing V shape disappearing behind his grey sweatpants. However, as my gaze traveled upward, I was struck with shock. It was him.

"Shiya, you're awake," he said, his voice filled with affection. I found myself lost by the way his smile illuminated his face, drawing me in. His lips moved closer and closer, forming words, but strangely, I couldn't hear anything.

As a hand gently wrapped around my hips, pulling me closer, I instinctively responded by rising onto my toes, seeking an intimate connection. I could sense the touch of his lips against mine, a tender and passionate kiss. In that moment, a wave of emotions flooded over me, I kissed him back. I wanted to cry

They were sweet, like dripping honey from heaven.

They were exactly like him, exactly how he felt. Home, hope, my moon.

In that kiss, I felt the essence of him, the familiarity that resonated with my soul. It was a feeling of being home, a flicker of hope in a world of uncertainty. He was my moon, casting his gentle glow upon me and filling me with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"Good morning, love," he greeted me with a soft voice as we reluctantly parted from our embrace. I found myself gazing into his grey eyes, feeling a gentle smile tugging at the corners of my lips. His words carried a hint of playfulness, the affection evident in his voice. "Have I made you tired from last night?"

"Dalhyun," I giggled, playfully tapping his chest, fully aware of the implications of his remark even though I don't remember how the sex was.

"Come on, breakfast is ready," he said, giving my buttcheek a playful pat as I began walking towards the high stool by the kitchen island. Taking my seat, I rested my face against my palm, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. In that moment, I decided to simply enjoy his company and let him take care of me, relishing the opportunity to bask in his presence and radiate beauty for him.

I choose to forget that something isn't right going here.

As he handed me the plate, I wasted no time in grabbing a fork and savoring a bite of the delicious scrambled eggs alongside the bread. A satisfied moan escaped my lips as I relished the flavors, the spices dancing upon my tongue with a perfect balance that didn't trigger my hiccups.

"This is amazing," I exclaimed, beaming with a smile as I swallowed the delectable mouthful.

"I'm glad that you like it," he whispered, leaning in from the other side of the slab. His fingers gently cradled my chin as he kissed me tenderly, reigniting the sensation of honey dripping from heaven. In that moment, I felt a profound sense of belonging, as if I had returned home.

A smile graced my lips as I murmured against his lips, "I love you."

I could sense his own smile in response, and we parted briefly as he whispered back, "And I love you."

But as I opened my eyes, the warmth in my heart plummeted from heavenly heights to the depths of hell. The words that followed pierced through me like a sharp blade.

"I love you so much, Snowdrop."

I scream.

I scream.

I screamed and screamed, maybe for hours, maybe for seconds but I screamed. And maybe, I'll wake up screaming for the rest of my life.

List of things I am grateful for.
My screams
My screams
My screams