Chapter 43
I woke up with a pounding headache, the kind that felt like a drum was playing inside my skull. My vision was still a bit blurry, and everything that happened last night started to rewind in my mind like a slow, cruel montage.
I decided to let her go. Not because I stopped loving her—God knows I still do—but because no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I don’t think I ever had a real chance in the end. She doesn’t need me. And maybe, just maybe, I have to start accepting that.
Pinilit ko nang huwag na lang munang isipin 'yon. I dragged myself out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I stood under the shower for almost an hour, letting the water hit my skin, hoping it would wash away the sadness. Pero kahit gaano katagal, wala namang nabago.
Pagkababa ko, I saw Ate in the kitchen, moving around as she prepared breakfast. She glanced at me the moment I stepped into the room.
"You said you weren’t feeling well yesterday," madiin na sabi niya. Her tone was calm, but I could tell she already knew the truth.
"Yes—"
"Don't lie." she cut me off, sharp but controlled. "I know what you did yesterday, Via. You spent almost a billion pesos in one day."
Napalunok ako. My throat felt dry, and I had to look away.
"It’s my money, after all," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. Which was true—I earned it. At my age, may sarili na akong pinagkakakitaan. Hindi ko lang madalas pag-usapan.
She put down the spoon she was holding and looked at me straight in the eyes.
"I don't care about the money. I know you've worked hard for that. But why did you have to lie? You told me you were sick, and I was so worried. I wanted to come home right away yesterday just to check on you. But what hurt more was finding out you weren’t even home the entire day. You disappeared, and I had no idea where you were. You're making me worry, Via!."Her voice was filled with concern, but it carried anger.
Napatingin ako sa kanya. She was already turning back to the food she plated, but I could still feel the weight of her words.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Totoo, I lied. But I'm okay now."
She let out a deep sigh, one that came from somewhere heavy.
"Don't do that again. Or else, you'll regret it. Mark my words, Via. Mark. It."
I didn’t answer. I just nodded slowly, knowing she deserved more, but unsure how to give it.
She handed me my plate and said gently, "Eat. You drank again last night, didn’t you?"
"Yeah. And I’ve decided to stop what I feel to her." I looked her in the eye as I said it. I meant it this time.
Napatingin siya sa akin, and I saw something in her face—like she knew I’d reach this point sooner or later.
"Good," she said. "Cynthia isn't the kind of person you can win over easily."
Tahimik lang ako. I started eating my breakfast, pero sa loob ko, naglalaban pa rin ng lungkot.
Yeah, she isn't the person I can get easily with but sometimes I think I have a chance. Why would she spend her time with me, coming in the province with me. But y'know what, nevermind. It does mean something to me, but maybe for her it was nothing.
“Wait. Are you really serious?” she asked again, eyes narrowing as she studied my face. Her brows were slightly furrowed, like she couldn’t believe I meant what I said.
I met her gaze. “Yes. I’m serious this time.”
She stared for a moment longer before finally sighing, her shoulders easing just a bit. “Good. Because you can’t keep drowning yourself in alcohol every time something doesn’t go your way.”
I looked down at my food, poking at the eggs with my fork. “It’s not just ‘something’… it’s her.”
“Cynthia?”
I nodded.
“Do you love her?”
The question made my heart tighten. I placed my fork down, no longer hungry.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I do.”
I still do.
Silence fell over us for a moment. My sister reached across the table, placing her hand over mine.
“Then maybe letting go is the bravest thing you’ve done.”
Her words hit me harder than I thought they would. Because for the first time, someone understood—not just the pain, but the weight of loving someone who may never love you back.
“You, Via, of all people, who can get everything she wants… how did you end up falling for someone you can’t have?”
I gave a dry laugh. “Maybe that’s why, Ate. Because for once, I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t buy it. I couldn’t earn it. It was just… her. And that scared me.”
She looked at me with something close to sadness. “Then maybe you need to focus on something else. Yourself. Healing. Living outside of her shadow.”
I nodded. “I’ll try.”
“No. Don’t just try. Do it.” She stood up and took her plate to the sink. “You’re strong, Via. But even strong people break. Just promise me, no more disappearing. No more drinking until you lose yourself.”
“I promise,” I said, and this time, I meant it.
She turned and gave me a small smile, the first real one I’ve seen from her this morning. “Good. Now go and get dressed. You’re gonna be late.”
As she turned away, I finally picked up my fork and took a bite. Maybe today wouldn’t be as hard. Maybe.
Or maybe I just have to fake it a little longer until it stops hurting.
---
I arrived at the University, but unlike before, I didn’t feel the usual excitement I used to get every time I saw her.
Back then, just the thought of her being in the same room was enough to make my heart race in a good way.
Pero ngayon, I just feel nervous—like there's a heavy weight in my chest. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act, or how to react, if ever we interact today. But honestly, bakit ko pa iniisip 'yon?
Hindi naman niya ako pinapansin, unless ako pa 'yung unang magpapansin sa kanya.
“Hi teh, okay ka lang? You seem down,” bati ni Cecilia sa akin habang papalapit sila ni Kinsley. I forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach my eyes.
“Yeah,” I replied shortly, trying to sound normal.
“Exercise and Sports Day nanaman today! Nakakapagod talaga!” reklamo ni Kinsley habang umupo sa harap ko, katabi ni Cecilia. She let out an exaggerated sigh and slumped on the bench.
We have this so-called Exercise and Sports Day every month.
It’s not technically part of our curriculum, pero included siya ng school para daw sa mental break and physical health improvement or something like that.
Required participation siya, at nakakaapekto rin sa grades, so whether we like it or not, kailangan naming mag-cooperate.
I sat quietly on my chair, scrolling through my phone just to distract myself.
I finally installed Instagram and Facebook recently—just because I got bored.
Pero I knew deep down kung anong unang ginawa ko.
Agad ko siyang sinearch sa Instagram.
The moment her profile popped up, napalunok ako nang mahina.
Magmo-move on na nga ako eh. Pero bakit parang pinapahirapan pa ako ng universe?
I started scrolling through her feed.
Her pictures were just…
stunning.
She looked so effortlessly pretty in every post.
Most of the photos were for work—brand promotions, product shoots, sponsored content.
Pero kahit gano’n, ang lakas pa rin ng dating niya.
Then I stumbled upon one picture.
It was her and Theo.
Parang napako ako doon. Cynthia was smiling—no, glowing. Her eyes crinkled with genuine happiness, her lips curved in the kind of smile na hindi ko pa ata nakita mula sa kanya habang magkasama kami. Masakit. Pero I couldn't stop looking.
“Good morning, Professor,” sabay-sabay na bati ng klase. I was too distracted to even realize na nandito na pala siya. My heart skipped—no, stumbled. Ang lakas bigla ng tibok ng puso ko. Oh gosh, please calm down, self.
“Prepare yourselves for the field. Get changed into the uniform that was assigned and we will start later. Meet me at the field. You may all go now—except for Gomez. Stay,” sabi niya.
Wait… what? Ha? Para saan 'yon? She never does this.
Isa-isa nang nagsi-alisan ang mga kaklase ko, nagmamadali pa ‘yung iba. Until I was left alone in the room. I tried to act cool, kahit sa loob ko, my nerves were in full panic mode. I didn’t leave my seat, pretending to busy myself with fixing my things—kahit wala naman talaga akong inaayos.
Then I heard it—heels clicking slowly against the floor, each step getting closer. Her steps were calm, deliberate, confident.
“Gomez,” she called me, her voice cool but firm. I hesitated. I wanted to look at her, but I also didn’t. But I knew I didn’t have a choice. Slowly, I raised my gaze and—damn. Ang ganda niya. Like painfully, annoyingly, heartbreakingly beautiful.
“What is it, Miss Sanchez?” I asked, trying to keep my cool, though I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“You didn’t greet me when I arrived earlier. You didn’t even bother to stand up. Do you think that’s appropriate behavior for a student?” she asked, her tone calm but sharp—classic Cynthia mode.
Here she goes.
“I didn’t notice that you had already arrived. I apologize for my behavior, Miss. It won’t happen again,” I said, keeping my tone formal. Then I stood, clutching my bag, trying to sound indifferent. “Can I go now?”
Kahit sa totoo lang, gusto ko nang matunaw sa kinatatayuan ko.
I was about to walk away—konti nalang, makakalabas na ako sa hangin na pinipigil ko pa simula pa kanina. I held onto the strap of my bag tightly, forcing my feet to move forward, one step at a time.
But just as I passed her, I felt her fingers wrap gently yet firmly around my wrist.
“Wait,” Cynthia said, her voice barely above a whisper, but it sliced through the silence between us like a blade.
My body tensed. I didn’t move. I didn’t look at her.
“I saw the flowers,” she continued. “They're beautiful.”
A pause.
“Thank you, Sylvia.”
The way she said my name—it wasn’t formal. It wasn’t cold. It was… careful. Intimate. Like she was savoring it. Like it meant something.
I turned slightly, just enough for our eyes to meet, and when they did—damn it—I almost lost it.
“Good to know,” I replied, voice cool and steady. “You can let go of me now, Miss Sanchez.”
She didn’t. Not right away.
“Did you make them?” she asked, but it wasn’t really a question. She already knew. She just wanted me to say it.
I finally looked back, our eyes meeting for a split second. Her gaze was searching—soft, almost vulnerable. But I wouldn’t let myself get pulled in again.
“Does it matter?” I said plainly, slowly removing my wrist from her grip. “You received the flowers. That should be enough.”
I could see the flicker of something in her eyes—confusion, maybe frustration. Maybe even guilt. But she masked it quickly, like she always does.
“Sylvia—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off gently but firmly. “Don’t say anything that will make me misunderstand again.”
She stepped forward, as if about to close the distance between us.
I stepped back.
“You should focus on today’s activity,” I added, already turning my back to her. “You’re the professor after all.”
And with that, I walked away.
I didn’t look back.
Not because I didn’t want to.
But because if I did…
I might find myself coming back to her again.
The moment I stepped into the locker room, I tried to steady my breathing.
My chest felt tight, and my mind refused to quiet down.
I forced my focus onto the task ahead—preparing for the exercise and sport day, something I would have usually found fun.
Today, though, it felt like just another hurdle I had to get through.
I grabbed my assigned uniform from the shelf and walked into one of the changing stalls.
The air was heavy, and I could hear the hum of quiet conversations from the other girls as they changed.
I shut the door behind me, taking a deep breath as I pulled off my clothes and slid into our uniform.
It wasn’t anything fancy—just a simple, tight-fitted shirt and shorts.
When I stepped out, the buzz of the activity outside reached my ears. The field was alive with the sound of voices, laughter, and the occasional whistle. Students were gathered in groups, stretching, chatting, and preparing for the day ahead.
I walked toward the field, my steps automatic. I could see the others already gathering by the sidelines. My heart beat a little faster, not because of the physical activity I was about to participate in, but because of her—Cynthia.
I spotted her near the front, her sharp gaze scanning the crowd, looking for the students who would stand out today. As usual, she exuded confidence, authority, and a quiet power that commanded attention. Her eyes, though, they caught mine.
I turned away, quickly pushing past the students and toward the back of the group, hoping she wouldn’t notice me any more than she had to.
But, as I stood there, waiting for the instructions to begin, I could feel her eyes on me. Even from the back of the group, it was as though I was being pulled toward her in a way I couldn’t explain.
A part of me wanted to turn and face her—to just walk up to her and demand answers. Why had she made me feel something again, when I had promised myself that I was done?
But I couldn’t. Not now. Not when I knew it wouldn’t change anything.
The whistle blew, and the day started with a series of warm-up exercises.
I tried to lose myself in the movements, concentrating on my body’s rhythm, the pulse of my heartbeat, the way my muscles strained with each stretch and jog.
The more I focused on the activity, the less I had to think about everything else.
About Cynthia.
The sports activities dragged on, the physical exhaustion creeping up on me with each passing moment.
Every muscle in my body ached, and my mind was far from focused.
I was trying to push through, but the weight of the day pressed harder, especially when my thoughts kept circling back to Cynthia.
That tightness in my chest whenever I caught sight of her—it was almost unbearable.
“Take a break, honey,” Ms. Dizon’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed her approaching, but when I looked up, there she was, standing with a water bottle in hand. She had seen the strain on my face, no doubt.
I forced a smile and nodded, accepting the bottle. “Thanks, Miss.” My voice was a little hoarse, but I tried to keep it together, despite how rattled I felt.
“You’ve been pushing yourself too much,” Ms. Dizon’s voice softened, but there was an edge of concern in her tone. “It’s like you’re running from something. Don’t let it control you.”
Her words hit me hard. I couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let her see how close I was to breaking. I had to stay composed, for my own sake.
“I’m fine, Miss.” I muttered, trying to drown out the chaos in my mind by taking a long sip of the water. But I could feel her watching me, her gaze steady and knowing.
“Are you really?” She leaned in closer, the air between us thickening with something I couldn’t quite place. There was a rawness in her eyes, like she could see right through the walls I’d built around myself.
"It’s just... personal stuff, Miss. Nothing I can’t handle,” I said, barely above a whisper, wishing I could push her away. But she didn’t back off.
Ms. Dizon’s hand came to rest gently on my shoulder, grounding me. “You don’t have to carry this alone, honey. Whatever it is, I’m here if you need to talk.”
Before I could say anything, Ms. Dizon stood up, her expression softening. “Take care of yourself, okay? Rest. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”
I nodded, the words feeling distant, as if they didn’t quite reach me. She walked away, leaving me with a flood of thoughts I wasn’t prepared to face. I sat there for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a few of my classmates talking amongst themselves. They kept glancing at me, whispering with mischievous smiles on their faces. It was then that I heard one of them—Alyssa, I think—speak in a low voice.
“Nakita mo 'yon? Parang may something sakanila!"
“I mean, the way she was looking at her,” another voice added. “Like, she’s not even trying to hide it. They’re definitely something.”
“No way,” someone else muttered. “You think? Maybe it’s just her being the caring teacher... but damn, it looked pretty intense.”
The words pierced through the air, they were shipping us. The thought was suffocating, but it wasn’t just their words that bothered me. It was the way they were watching us—watching me.
And then, as if to punctuate the conversation, Ms. Sanchez stepped into the scene. Her presence was immediate, her gaze sharp as she looked toward our group. Her eyes locked onto Alyssa and the others, and the air seemed to freeze.
She didn’t say anything at first, but her stare was enough to silence the entire group. Alyssa’s voice died in her throat, and even the others seemed to shrink back under the force of Ms. Sanchez’s glare.
I couldn’t look at her. The tension between us felt suffocating, but I could feel her eyes—heavy, accusatory—lingering on me for just a moment. It wasn’t a look of concern or even curiosity. No, it was something darker.
Then, without a word, she turned and walked away, but the weight of her presence still hung in the air. The class returned to their activities, but the atmosphere had shifted. It was as if everyone knew something they shouldn’t, something unspoken, but no one dared to discuss it further.
After hours of activities under the sun, we finally finished. Grabe, sobrang init! Everyone looked exhausted, buti na lang tapos na rin sa wakas. We still have something later in the afternoon, pero more on indoor activities na daw kasi it's getting too hot out here in the field.
Kanina pa ako parang lutang habang nagpe-perform kami ng mga tasks.
Honestly, I wasn’t really focused—hindi dahil sa pagod lang, kundi dahil sa kanya.
I tried—I really tried—to avoid her the whole time.
As in, I made sure na hindi kami magkatabi, hindi kami magkausap, and I kept my eyes anywhere except sa direction niya.
Pero ang hirap, okay?
Kasi my eyes… my eyes keep betraying me. Every. Single. Time. Kahit iwasan ko siya, kahit hindi ko siya tinitingnan directly, my gaze always ends up finding her.
And like—can you blame me? She’s wearing fitted jeans na sobrang bagay sa kanya, and that sleeves top that hugged her figure perfectly. Sinong hindi mapapatingin, ‘di ba? Her hair was tied up messily, but somehow she still looked effortlessly good.
Ano ba ‘to?!
I kept telling myself, Hindi! Hindi ako marupok!
But my thoughts weren’t cooperating.
I tried to act cool, to pretend like I didn’t notice anything. Pero deep inside? Aminin ko man o hindi, naaapektuhan ako. And it’s not even fair because she wasn’t even doing anything! She’s just… existing. Breathing. Looking like that. And somehow, that’s enough to mess with my brain.
I hate how my heart betrays me every time she’s around. I hate how I get all fidgety when she walks past. I hate how I can’t stop noticing the little things she does—like how she plays with the hem of her shirt when she’s bored, or how her eyes light up when she talks about something she loves.
Ugh, this is torture.
But still… hindi ako marupok.
Right?
---
I’m here at home, finally nagpapahinga after such a draining day. I'm exhausted. Those activities earlier really took a toll on me—ang init, ang daming ginawa, at ang daming tao. All I wanted now was to lay down, pull up my blanket, and just doze off.
But of course, cravings had to ruin it.
Gusto ko ng gatas. As in, I was seriously craving warm milk. It’s my comfort drink, especially when I want to sleep peacefully. Pero tinatamad talaga akong bumaba. My body was screaming rest, pero my craving was louder.
So I grabbed my phone and decided to call Manang. She’s usually just downstairs anyway, baka pwedeng ipaabot ko na lang. But after a few rings, still no answer.
Argh.
I groaned, dramatically throwing my phone to the side. Wala na, no choice na ‘to. I forced myself to stand up, dragging my feet toward the stairs. I could almost hear the milk calling my name. This better be worth it.
Habang pababa ako, I started hearing some voices coming from the living room. Familiar voices.
And when I peeked to see who it was—ayun na nga. Mga kaibigan ni Ate. My heart suddenly beat faster, an automatic reaction I hated admitting. Pero buti na lang, she wasn’t there. Wala siya doon, kaya medyo kumalma rin itong lukaret kong puso.
“Omggg, hi baby Gomez! I miss youuu!” bati ni Ms. Martinez sabay yakap sa akin.
Don’t even ask why close kami, but yeah, somehow we got along. I even call her Ate Diana, kasi sabi niya, feel niya masyado siyang “auntie vibes” kapag “Ma’am” ang tawag ko.
“Hello Ate Diana,” bati ko sa kanya, simpleng ngiti lang.
“You’re overreacting, Diana. You always see her in the University,” sabat bigla ni Ate, medyo madiin pa ang tono kaya napabitaw si Ate Diana sa yakap niya sa akin.
“Wala akong naririnig!” sagot ni Ate Diana na parang wala lang. “By the way, call me Diana lang, okay? Kapag tinatawag mo akong ‘Ate,’ parang feeling ko gurang na ako niyan.” sabay tawa niya, tas balik upo.
“Okay, Diana. I’ll just get some milk, Ate,” sabi ko naman, sabay paalam sa kanila. Tumango lang si Ate bilang sagot.
I headed to the kitchen, ready to finally fulfill my milk mission.
Pero syempre, kung kailan gusto mong tahimik at chill lang, doon pa talaga nangyayari ang mga ayaw mong mangyari.
Pagdating ko sa kusina, ayun siya.
She was standing in front of the refrigerator, getting something to drink.
Her back was slightly turned, pero nung naramdaman niyang may pumasok, she looked—and saw me.
Our eyes met for a split second, pero ako na mismo ang unang umiwas.
I didn’t even greet her.
I just went straight to the cupboard to grab a glass and the milk powder.
Focus, Sylvia. Gatas. Not her.
I tried to ignore the way my hands slightly trembled while preparing my drink. I tried to pretend she wasn’t there. I tried to act normal.
“Where’s the juice here, Sylvia?” she asked, her voice calm, casual—pero ang epekto sa akin? Kalma, puso.
Napalunok ako ng bahagya. Every time she says my name, may kakaibang kiliti sa dibdib. I hate it. I hate that I notice it.
“I think there’s none left, Miss,” maayos at formal kong sagot, still refusing to look in her direction. I focused on the glass, the milk, the spoon—kahit ano, basta hindi siya.
Binilisan ko ang galaw ko. I just wanted to get out of that kitchen, away from the tension. I was just about to leave, holding my warm glass of milk, when—
I felt her hand wrap gently around my arm.
Hindi ako makagalaw sa kinatatayuan ko. I didn’t want to look. I told myself not to. But like always, my body betrayed me.
I turned my head, and there she was—looking straight at me.
There was something in her eyes I couldn’t read. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t exactly softness either. Parang gusto niyang magsalita, pero pinipigilan niya. She looked like she was battling herself in her own head.
Hindi siya nagsalita. Wala siyang sinabi. But her grip… it felt like a question. Like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how—or wasn’t sure if she should.
Then, slowly, she let go.
Just like that.
Parang wala lang. Parang hindi niya ako hinawakan at hindi rin niya ako tiningnan ng gano’n. I held my breath the entire time. And when she finally stepped back, I took it as my cue to leave.
I walked away without saying anything. Glass of milk in hand. Heart still pounding.
Gatas. Layunin ko rito, gatas. Hindi siya.
I kept repeating that to myself as I climbed back upstairs.
And finally, I’m here in my room.
I feel like I just came back from war.
My body feels so sore, as if every muscle went through battle.
I dropped myself on the bed with a heavy sigh, closed my eyes for a second, and then grabbed the glass of milk I prepared earlier.
The warmth soothed my throat, and slowly, I felt a bit more relaxed.
Of course, me being me, I couldn’t just sleep right away. So I grabbed my phone and opened Call of Duty: Mobile.
Big mistake.
I told myself just one game, but three hours passed by like nothing. Tatlong oras. But it was worth it, I guess. After one week of grinding in this new season, I finally made it to Legendary rank. 20k points, baby. Let’s go.
But then I checked the time—11 PM. Oh my gosh.
“Okay, okay. I should really sleep now,” I whispered to myself.
I stood up, turned off the light, and got back into bed, ready to drift off. My body was tired. My eyes were tired. But of course, the moment I closed them—
I couldn’t sleep.
Ugh.
I kept tossing and turning, but my mind wouldn’t shut up. I felt sticky from the sweat earlier. Ang dami ko rin kasing iniisip. It was like my thoughts were screaming in my head.
“Fine,” I muttered, getting out of bed. “Shower it is.”
I went inside the bathroom and let the warm water run over me. I stayed there for almost thirty minutes, letting the water calm me down, clear my head. Just breathe, Sylvia. That was all I needed.
But when I stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand, still drying my hair, I froze.
“What the—”
Sitting on the edge of my bed, legs crossed, was Cynthia.
What was she doing here!?
She was just… there. Calm. Confident. Dangerous.
Her eyes locked onto mine with a seductively intense gaze that made my knees feel weak. There was something different about her tonight. Her presence was overwhelming. Her aura—dominating. She didn’t look away. Not even once.
For a second, I wanted to go back into the bathroom and lock myself in. But I forced myself to act cool. I slowly stepped out, doing my best to ignore her completely. Luckily, I had already changed into fresh clothes inside the bathroom, or else jusko Lord, I might’ve just dropped dead right there.
I made my way to the door, deciding to just leave the room. No way was I going to stay here with her like that. I could feel her eyes following my every movement. Every step I took, it was like she already anticipated it.
As I reached for the doorknob, I felt her hand grab mine—gently, but with intent.
“What do you want, Miss—” I began, but she cut me off.
Not with words.
But with a kiss.
My heart stopped.
Her lips crashed into mine, soft but urgent. I could taste the faint sweetness of strawberry on her tongue.
She was drunk.
She drank the wine from the kitchen.
Her hands cupped the side of my face as she continued to kiss me. Her lips moved with hunger, her tongue slipping into my mouth, exploring. She kissed me like she wanted to own me. I couldn’t respond. I stood still, paralyzed. My heart was thudding so loud, I could barely hear anything else.
I didn’t kiss her back. I couldn’t. She’s drunk, Sylvia. She’s drunk.
I pushed her away, gently but firmly.
She looked at me, panting slightly, her eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. Those eyes—those dangerous, seductive eyes—were burning through me. They made me want to melt.
“Stop what you’re doing, Miss,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though I was losing control inside. “You’re drunk. Why did you even drink that wine?”
She didn’t even answer my question.
Instead, she moved closer, pushing me back until I hit the wall. Her body pressed against mine—warm, firm, intoxicating.
“Why have you been ignoring me?” she whispered, her tone low, almost like a growl. “Why aren’t you answering me? Don’t push me to my limits, Sylvia... or you’ll regret it.”
Her voice was commanding, terrifying, and yet, something in me—something wild and uncontrollable—felt the thrill of it.
Her hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face, her fingers gentle as they tucked it behind my ear. Her touch lingered.
“Okay… fine,” she muttered. “Is this how you want to play?”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
Then she kissed me again. Slower this time. Deeper. Her lips were soft, her mouth exploring mine with a kind of desperation that sent chills down my spine. Her hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
And this time... I kissed her back.
I didn’t know why. I didn’t care. My arms wrapped around her waist. Her body was warm against mine. Our lips moved in sync like we’d done this a thousand times before. I was dizzy, lost in the moment.
Before I even realized it, we were already at the bed. Don’t ask me how we got there—I had no clue. Everything was a blur.
She was on top of me. Kissing me. Touching me.
But I broke the kiss.
This isn’t right.
“Let’s stop, Miss,” I said breathlessly, my hands on her shoulders. “You’re drunk… and you have a boyfriend. Please. Stop making me crazy.”
I was sitting upright, and she was straddling my lap, her eyes locked onto mine, frustrated. Like she was aching for more and hated that I pulled away.
But she didn’t stop.
She pushed me gently down onto the bed, climbing over me again. I don’t know why, but I felt weak—like all my energy had been drained. My body refused to fight her off.
Her lips found mine again, then traveled to my neck. Her hands slid down my waist, tracing every curve. Her mouth moved lower, and—
“Miss—Mmm...” A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it. I bit my lip and pushed her away with trembling hands.
She stopped.
She looked at me, and her next words nearly stopped my heart.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, voice low, but certain. “And I want you, right now, Sylvia.”