IT WAS THREE in the morning and I laid on my bed, as awake as ever. The same image was playing on repeat in my mind, no matter how many times I tried to shut it down, as I analysed, reanalysed, and then analysed my analysis. Trying to read every little bit of body language I might have missed, dissect the tone of his voice, ponder if my response had been right or wrong.
It wasn't something I was new to. Even with people other than Orion, it was something I liked to do. But insomnia was not something that affected me often, but it certainly had hit me like a truck now. I'd been lying here for more than an hour and my eyelids wouldn't even stir.
I'd left the light off, in case my parents went to use the toilet and saw the light of my room still on. They'd get concerned, come in, talk to me, and that would lead to a whole barrage of questions I wasn't sure I could answer.
The curtains, though, remained open. And there were still flickering lights from the cars that occasionally passed through the highway I could see from my window, or the one or two apartments in every building that still had their lights on.
How had I found myself in this situation?
When did Orion start developing... feelings for me, if we could call it that? Or was it just lust? Just pure physical attraction? It was hard to say, and despite all my hard work I still hadn't formed a good conclusion.
My stomach was growling but I was too tired to get up for food. Or to brush my teeth again after eating such food.
So I just laid there.
Thinking.
Thinking and thinking and thinking for answers that I did not have.
Wondering if this entire evening was a mistake, if I should have never gone, if I should have had someone help bring Orion home with me instead of spending time with him alone. How on earth did we continue on from this?
For the love of god. He could have at least thought about all this before he'd kissed me just like that. But well, he was drunk.
And I was sort of responsible for him being this wasted in the first place.
No, never mind. I was not going to accept any blame for what happened. Except for me not pushing him away immediately after he kissed me. That was the only thing I could take responsibility for.
I groaned, pushing myself up, taking a sip of water from the cup beside me. I wasn't going to wake up with a killer hangover tomorrow, thank god, since I hadn't touched any alcohol, but I was still going to get a severely deficient amount of sleep.
Which wasn't anything new either. I was a university student, after all. What else could I expect? Sleep was never something on our schedules. It was the last thing on any of our minds on any given day, and that was how things had always been.
But still. I really wished I could be asleep right now, if only just because that could mean I'd stop thinking about the same thing over and over again. But if I was asleep, would I just dream about it instead?
What a dilemma.
With a roll of my eyes, I reached for my phone, trying to bore myself by going through social media. With a start, I realised that Camille's icon still said Active, and I clicked into our chat.
Are you seriously still awake????
Camille's reply: I legit only just got home.
???????
It's a long story
CAMILLE WHAT DID YOU DO
YOU ARE READING
those years between us
RomanceSALOME LAM likes to think of herself as a rational girl. Everything she does, she thinks about first. With her friends she's the mother figure, the one always looking out for them and taking care of them. This is how she works, unless it comes to Or...
