The Flat

10

At three in the morning, I woke up, still in Harry's bed. I hadn't meant to sleep for as long as I did. While I adjusted to his bedroom, I realised his arms were wrapped around me, his chest was pressed against my back and his dormant dick was nestled against my ass.

Carefully sliding out of his embrace, I watched him roll deep into his sheets, undoubtedly missing the warmth of my body. He looked so sweet, deceptively sweet.

Once I got out of his bed and onto my feet, I realised how sore I was and how sore I was going to be. I quietly made my way back to my room, smelling like sex and Harry. I stumbled into my bathroom and turned on the shower.

So, it was official. I was fucking my roommate. Just thinking about it made me relax. For the first time in weeks I felt at ease. I wasn't trying to deny our attraction or shut down my feelings. And I was fucking him because no one had ever done things like that to me before. Not even my boyfriend.

My boyfriend.

I told myself that I would just do it a few more times and then I'd call it off. I'd get Harry out of my system. Or Harry would get bored. Either way, we would get tired of each other and move on. There was no way we could maintain this level of attraction. Simply, things would taper off and we could get back to our significant others. I repeated that over and over again to myself. It comforted me as I curled up in my sheets and slept.

However, my dreams were full of heartache and loneliness. It seemed that some part of me knew better.

The next morning I was indeed very sore. I lay in my bed until I smelt tea wafting in from the kitchen. Slowly I pulled on my nightie and followed the aroma. I found Harry in his black underwear drinking tea and checking his phone at the table.

"Hi," I said, shyly.

"Hello," Harry grinned.

I felt his eyes follow me as I made myself a cuppa. But this time I wasn't afraid of meeting his gaze. I looked back at him coyly over my mug as I went into the living room. He followed me.

We settled in front of the telly and began to shift through all the shows I had recorded. As I scrolled through the options, he began to play footsie with me. I smiled. It was oddly charming to have him flirt with me in such a boyish way.

When I finally picked a show, he wrapped his leg over my thigh and pulled me into his chest. We laid together, watching the show and everything felt incredibly right. We were still in our own secret world, nothing from outside had come in to burst our bubble.

But then, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Aaron: Meeting an old friend for brunch. Wanna join?

I considered the text for a minute, feeling so comfortable with Harry, and tempted by the idea of spending the weekend with him in our flat. Too tempted in fact. I closed my phone, got off the sofa and slowly walked to my room.

"What's up?" Harry asked from the living room.

"I'm grabbing brunch with some friends," I said.

"Oh, well," I heard him hesitate.

"What?" I yelled back.

"Nothing. Have fun." I quickly got dressed and grabbed my bag. When I went back into the living room Harry was already wrapped in the show he was watching. I hurried past him and I closed the door behind me.

•••

"Vivian, this is Liam," Aaron smiled at me and kissed me sweetly on the cheek. Liam got up and shook my hand. He looked like a typical clean cut Ivy League graduate. We chatted about the economy and world events while we got tipsy on mimosas and gorged ourselves on pancakes.