Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda.
The memories of last night all came rushing back. And I can't… I can't sift through them. I just lie there staring at his face. Slowly, with a finger, I touch him. He's warm. So warm. And his skin is smooth. I trace the edge of his jaw—fucking amazed— and fail to notice his eyes fluttering.
"Hmm." A low rumble in his throat and I retreat instantly. He has a slow sexy smile coming up and yepp—there it is—i'm melting. He reaches out for me sleepily and pulls me closer with an arm across my waist. I'm several levels of happy and content and this is so fucking romantic. His lips are searching and they find my own and we kiss briefly. "You're awake." He murmurs against my jaw as he trails kisses to my ear.
I have not fully recovered and absorbed what is happening yet but I let it go. There's a warning sign flashing across my eyes but I fucking ignore it. I just met this man. He's hot—steamy—dreamy—romantic—nice—and I want this moment. At least, give me this.
I shudder at the sensations. Fuck, are we going to have sex again? But he's slowing down and burying his face at my neck. His skin is so warm and comfortable. I search his face but his eyes are closed and his breathing is steady again.
I stare at the ceiling with thoughts running around my head. I'm confused. Is this how one-night stands are supposed to be? Do I leave now? Do I stay for breakfast? What the fuck. Zelda, what the fuck.
I look at him and he's perfectly sculpted features. He's too handsome, too beautiful—too… much. I feel a tendril of doubt and I try not to feed it. But it's already there. And I can't shake if off. Things like these do not happen to women like me. This is too good to be true. Too perfect.
I met him at a bar. Maybe, that's his thing? He did all the right things—made all the right moves.
Listen to a girl's rants. Check.
Buy her drinks. Check.
Be a knight. Damn right, check.
Take her for a ride. On a bike that screams sexiness. Check.
Take her to a secret place. Check.
Take her back to your apartment. Check.
Fuck her brains out. Fuck. Check.
I inhale slowly—trying to keep calm. The thought that I got played is running around in my head. But strangely, I do not mind. Yesterday, I was a 'nice' girl with a long-term boyfriend and then fate decides to turn my life around overnight. I look at him again.
He is oozing attractiveness despite the fact that I do not know him. I am definitely attracted. I was swept off my feet and smitten and…
Fuck. I am in deep shit.
Really deep shit.
I close my eyes and exhale slowly. Step by step. One at a time. But I have a hard time concentrating as snippets of what happened last night come back and taunt me.
He is a walking sex god. I have never had sex like that before—like I'm a fucking goddess he needed to worship. Like I am the epitome of desire. And I loved every fucking second of it. It was raw and passionate and carnal. Sex with my ex was quick and I didn't know any better. I thought I was contented with the experiences but with Link…
Link…
God, even his name is sexy.
Everything about him is sexy. From his blond hair and sky-blue eyes to his damn-lick-me abs. He has woken something in me. Something that I didn't think I wanted or had in the first place. I can never go back to that plain sex-in-bed thing. Last night, I was pressed against the wall and fucked like there was no tomorrow.
And I want more.
Men like him are not single. Men like him are too good to be true. Women like me are prey to men like him. He is too good for me. Too perfect for me. Too everything.
There has to be a catch. There has to be. Last night was a whirlwind and I bet it's going to fucking slap me in the face soon.
Is he married? Panicked, I peek under the sheets and look at his left hand that was holding me close. Nope… no ring. Not even a tan line. So, I guess that's safe.
Does he have a girlfriend?! I crane my head up and look around his room. There are no telltale signs of a girl's stuff. And if… if he did… he wouldn't have brought me back to his apartment, right? He would have had sex with me at my place. Right?
Okay. Seems reasonable, right? Right?
I bit my lower lip and I realize that I am not equipped to handle this.
If he had a girlfriend and he's a player, then he wouldn't have brought me back home because that would be too risky. If and then. I've had several experiences with if's and then's. I'm a fucking programmer. I can think of all the possibilities and cover all the loopholes.
Okay. Calm down. Breathe. Breathe.
My headache is back and I groan involuntarily as I press a hand to my forehead. Thinking hurts. He shifts beside me and I feel his breath hot on my ear. I feel tingly.
I'm already here. I'm already in his arms. If life is going to be fucking me up later—then let it come. For now, I will close my eyes and enjoy this.
Fine.
Decided, I snuggle up to him and I see a ghost of a smile on his face before I go back to sleep.
I wake up slightly disoriented. It takes me a while to get my bearings back and I prop myself on my elbows, looking around. I am lying on my stomach and my ass is exposed to the air. I grope for the blanket somewhere around my feet and cover myself up to my chest as I sit up.
Link is gone.
Well, not gone. But I hear the clink of glasses outside the bedroom and I guess he's in the kitchen. My mouth feels like hell and I spot a glass of water on the bedside table. I grab it and drain it. I feel a bit better.
"You're up." A voice says from behind me.
His voice sounds different in the morning. It's sexier—clearer. Fuck. I feel my cheeks heat up as I turn to face him. He's naked from the waist up and he has this drawstring pants on—riding low on his hips. I lick my lower lip absent-mindedly and he smiles at me.
What do I say? What the fuck do I say? My mind seems blank.
He points to a door to his left. "Bathroom's here. Towels are in the cabinet."
I nod numbly and he leaves the room with another smile. Slowly, I get off the bed and pad quickly to the bathroom naked. Inside was all marble—dark countertops. It's all very bachelor-like. I spot a toothbrush still in its packet and I smile at the thought of him leaving it out for me.
Dammit. Just when I thought he could not get any sexier than this. He's fucking thoughtful too. The bathroom was spacious and the tub was huge—enough for two people. I step into it and draw the curtains close. Hot water comes out in torrents and I sigh in relief as it hits my skin. I take this moment for myself—enjoying it.
An array of products line the shelf above me and I'm glad to see shampoo and conditioner. His bath gel smells like… cinnamon. And I smile at this information.
After the bath, I get out and grab a towel from the cabinet near the sink. I wrap it around me then brush my teeth. Drying my hair with the blowdryer on the wall, I step out with a deep breath. The bed has been made and there was a small pile of clothes on it. I assume these are for me.
My dress from last night and underwear is nowhere to be seen. I can't get out of this room naked so… I will ask him later. It's a simple white shirt with one of his boxers that look like shorts.
It feels weird… to wear boxers. But they're a nice and comfy fit even though they reach my knees. The shirt is loose on me. And I giggle at something I remember from a magazine back then. It said that guys get a kick when women wear their clothes.
Shut up, Zelda. How I leave this apartment—how awkward it will get when I get out of this room—these are all things left to be seen. Do I act cool? Are we going to have sex again? I don't know which way to go.
My hair is still damp and I leave it loose. I am hungry and I cannot delay this any longer. If I stay here for too long, he'll come looking for me.
I step out of the bedroom and I survey the living room. There is a ginormous TV hung on the wall and a black leather sofa. Everything is… tasteful. Can be considered minimalist even. There are no unnecessary decorations—no frills—no fuss. The scent of bacon assaults me and I follow it down the hall to the kitchen.
He's wearing a white shirt same as mine, cooking something on the stove.
Really? really, God? It cooks too? Is it my fucking birthday? Can he get any more perfect?
He turns around with a pan in hand and he smiles at me.
I bite my lip as I make my way to the counter. The same counter where we had sex last night. I try not to think about it. I sit on one of the high-chairs and he puts pancakes on my plate. I cross my legs.
"Pancakes and bacon." He says.
Fuck.
There is a steaming mug of black coffee and I take a welcome sip. It wakes me up and I give him a small smile—still embarrassed. "Thank you."
"Butter? Jam? Syrup?"
I try to avoid his eyes. "Butter, please."
He opens the fridge and puts it in front of me. He then sits across from me. "You're unusually quiet this morning."
I blush. Honestly, I do not know what to say.
"Thank you for the toothbrush. And the clothes." I say with a forced smile. I feel tense and I am panicking. He's being nice and I'm nervous.
"Your clothes are in the laundry." He says apologetically. "Are you nervous?"
Stop reading my mind. Slowly, I nod. "I'm…" I'm not this kind of girl… Who sleeps around… Do I dare say it? Last night, I was full of liquid courage. And now—I'm all thumbs.
"You're?"
I take a deep breath. "I'm not this kind of girl."
"Which kind?" He asks between mouthfuls.
"The kind… that sleeps around." I say, embarrassed. He's calm. Very calm. I feel ashamed that I'm the only one who's flustered by the situation.
"I guessed as much." He says. "Don't be nervous. I don't judge."
And I sigh in relief. He's too nice. Did he make me pancakes and bacon because I told him last night that these are my favourites? Do we not speak about what happened last night? Do we act cool and 'pretend' we didn't have sex?
"Hey." He says again.
And I look up. His blue eyes are mesmerising and I hold my breath.
"There you are. Stop hiding and eat."
I nod and smear butter on my pancakes. I start eating.
They're fucking delicious. They do not taste like the ones from the store nor are they batter-ready. I've eaten enough pancakes to notice the real ones. "Did you make these from scratch?" I blurt out.
He nods.
"Holy sweet baby Jesus." I say as I take another mouthful.
He laughs. "Thank you."
"So… you like cooking?" I ask. The bacon is done just the way I want them—not too crispy, just right.
He nods. "Yes."
Is he a chef? "Are you a chef?"
But he shakes his head no.
He still has not told me what he does for a living. I survey the apartment—and judging from the view outside, we are on the top floor. He has money. Not that I'm… poor. But I can identify money when it's right in front of me. The shirt that I'm wearing is branded. So are my boxers. These are brands even my ex could not buy at a whim. And his bike is from a high-class manufacturer. And he has a ginormous television mounted on his wall.
I debate if I should ask him. But I'm afraid that might make me sound like a gold-digger or something. Which I am not. And not that I'm into him. Well… That one's debatable. Okay, I am thinking too far ahead. If he wanted to tell me, he could have already. So I leave the topic alone.
"There is something I need to ask you." He says suddenly.
"What is it?"
"Last night," he starts.
I almost snort into my coffee but I manage to keep calm. If he can keep calm about this, I can too.
"When we… uhmm… well, when I… finished… I came inside you." He says quickly. "And I was not wearing a condom. Should I run to the store for—"
I shake my head immediately. "No, it's okay. I'm on the pill."
And I see him relax considerably. "Oh, great."
I take this moment to attack the topic. Actually, I want to talk about it. I want to discuss where we are. Is this a one-time thing? Or are we… what do they call it? 'Fuck-buddies'? Friends with benefits? Not that we're friends to begin with. But do I leave his apartment with his number and the promise of more sex? Or do we never see each other again?
The last one has me aching. I want to see him again.
I like him. He is perfect, who wouldn't? I feel like I've managed to win the lottery—temporarily.
"Uhmm…"
He looks at me expectantly. "Yes?"
I put the coffee down and inhale deeply. I brace myself. "I need to ask you something too."
He cocks his head to the side.
"Do we… Uhmm. I told you that I've never done this before. And I'm not the kind of girl that sleeps around. So, I don't really know where to go from here. I'm really nervous about this so I don't know what…" my voice trails off weakly and I hurriedly stuff pancakes into my mouth.
Fuck. I just rambled on. And I've said more than I should. My cheeks feel hot and I press my palms to them. "Sorry…" I mutter.
"Do you think I do this often?" He asks me, a curious expression on his face. "Pick up girls in bars and take them home to have sex with them?" He adds when I don't say anything.
And I'm afraid that I offended him. I placate him with my hands. "Oh no!"
"You keep on saying that you're not this kind of girl." He says with a small smile as he eats a piece of bacon. "But I'm not this kind of guy either."
Okay. Honestly, I am a bit stunned. And confused. "But…"
"What made you think that I am?" He takes a sip of coffee and looks at me from the rim.
"I didn't mean to offend you!" I say hurriedly. Okay, this is not going right.
"No offence taken. I'm just… curious. Do I look like a player?" He asks.
I cannot, for the life of me, get why he is so calm. I am so fucking awkward and nervous right now. How can he be so calm if he's not used to these kinds of things?!
"Uhmm…" I take a deep breath. "You…" It can't be helped. I should say it. "Last night… You said all the right things, did all the right things. Textbook player." I finish lamely.
He chuckles softly and I cannot—even—is he laughing at me?!
"I assure you, I am not a player." He says with a smile.
I nod slowly, still wary. "Then… Thank you, I guess?"
He inclines his head. "You're welcome, I guess?" He imitates me and nope he's too cute and I can't. I can't. I can't even. "So you were saying?"
Oh. I thought he'd forgotten about it. I don't want to say anything anymore. I feel like I'm embarrassing myself further and further. This cannot go on. I eat a piece of bacon and munch on it.
He leans over the counter to me. And he smiles. "Are you sure you don't have anything else to say?"
I know he's teasing me. I know he is. "I'm sure."
"Alright." He smiles and goes back to his food.
"Okay—wait." I blurt out. This is my chance. "Since we are both inexperienced in this, I wanted to ask what's going to happen next."
He finishes off his food and props his chin on his fingers. "It depends." He runs his hand through his hair and I try not to get distracted by it. "On what you want."
I stop. What I want? What about what you want? "Why me?"
"Because… you're the girl."
"Oh." I say.
"Oh?"
And I am instantly reminded of our conversation last night. "Just 'Oh'." I say with a smile.
It's obvious he remembers too because he smiles. "Do you want to see me again?" He asks after a while.
And I bite my lip. How can he be so fucking direct. But this way is actually better. If I want to see him again, I have to be honest about how I feel. And so… I nod. That sexy smile is back and yepp. I do. I want to see him again.
"Then… Can I have your number?" He asks with his eyebrows raised.
His eyes are so blue and I honestly think I might drown in them. He's got this sense of humour and fuck, I like it. "I think we're going through this backwards." I finish of my food and jump off my stool. I gather my plate and take his too.
I reach his side of the counter and he's so close. His eyes are on me and I am all too aware of his presence. This is a mistake. I shouldn't have gotten so close to him. But I can't just move away quickly. I balance the utensils on top of the plates and take them to sink. Since he cooked, I should at least wash. He asks me for my number now when we've skipped everything else. I giggle at this.
"I can't ask you out if I don't have your number." He says. He turns around on his stool with his elbows on the countertop. He lounges casually as I run some water over the plates and start washing.
There weren't a lot so I finish quickly. I turn around to see him still staring at me intently. His question is still unanswered as I stare at him cheekily and dry my hands on a kitchen towel. He doesn't move.
"Link." I say.
"Zelda." He nods at me.
This is all going too fast. I just got broken up with less than 24 hours ago and I've already spent the night with another man. I feel a little bit panicked—but I feel, strangely… I don't know how to explain it. Free? Is that the word to describe this feeling? Rebellious? I could be in denial and he's actually a fucking rebound.
But he's not asking for a relationship.
Whoah there. Calm down, girl. For all you know he's asking you to be his fuck-buddy.
What I do know is—
"I can see you overthinking this." He says with a smile. "Tell me what you're thinking."
Fine.
I sit across the stool from him. We're in the same position we were in at the bar. "Do you really want to know?" I demand.
He nods and faces me. "You were thinking out loud last night. Now, you have this little furrow between your eyebrows—" he points to where it is exactly and I hold my breath. He touches me with his forefinger and like a fucking tidal wave—memories of our tryst come flooding. "and to be honest, it is driving me crazy."
It takes all of me not to react to this.
I gulp. "Fine. I'll tell you." With a deep breath, I start. "I just got broken up with last night. And on that same night—I slept with someone else." He doesn't react but keeps on listening. So, I continue. "This is all new to me and to be honest, I don't know how to act since this should be an awkward situation but strangely enough, it's not."
He takes his coffee and sips. "And?"
"Aside from the fact that we had amazing sex—" I roll my eyes at this and he smirks. "you're basically a stranger. I feel like I'm in denial about my breakup and you're a rebound and I just—I don't know, okay? I don't know what to think right now." I sigh in exasperation throwing my hands in the air.
It takes him a moment to respond and the apartment is silent. I look at him and wait but all I get is his usual sexy smile lighting up his features.
"So the sex was amazing?" He asks with a smirk.
I hit him on the arm and he laughs aloud. "I basically throw a fucking speech here and your takeaway from it is the amazing sex?!" I holler at him.
He lets me land a couple more hits before he takes my wrist and placates me, "okay, okay. Sorry. I couldn't help but tease you."
Scowling, I cross my arms. Fuck you and your teasing.
Taking a deep breath, he sighs. "Okay. How about this: we see where it goes. We take things slow." He raises an eyebrow. "So you wouldn't be pressured into anything and you can relax and stop overthinking."
It is… not a bad idea.
And it actually makes sense. Grudgingly, I nod. And he grins at me. "So now, will you give me your number?"
He is looking at me with these wide eyes and no. There is no way I can resist that face. "Fine."
"Great." He claps his hands and gets off his stool. He leaves the kitchen and for a minute there, I was confused as to where he went but he comes back out with a phone in his hand. He hands it to me and I see the Phonebook app open. "Save it." He says.
I type in my number but my fingers hover over the Save field. Last night, he called me Zelda. How did he know?
"How did you know my name?" I ask him as I save the contact and hand it back to him.
He hesitates like a child caught doing something naughty. But he shrugs. "When you fell asleep at the hill, your phone kept on ringing and I answered it. Your ex called you 'Zelda' so that's how I know your name." He says.
Oh… That's not too bad. Which reminds me, where is my bag? I look around and he seems to guess what I'm looking for. He goes to the living room and plucks my purse from the couch. He hands it to me. "Is that alright?" He asks.
I don't mind really… It's not… It doesn't matter so I shrug. "I guess it's okay."
There is a loud ping that sounds suspiciously like a washing machine and Link rushes to go get it. Must be my clothes.
I fish my phone out of my bag and unlock the screen. For the first time that morning, I check the time to see that it's almost 11am. There are several missed calls from the ex. And several messages too. The earlier ones are mostly 'worried' and asking where I was but towards the end—he's resorted to calling me and accusing me of 'whoring' around. The most recent one was from this morning at 9am, asking how the walk of shame was.
Fuck you, Eric. I cannot believe that I lasted seven years with the guy. How could I be so blind?!
Angrily, I deleted the call log and his messages to. I block his number so he wouldn't be able to contact me ever again. Aside from him, I see messages from my best friend and one from my dad.
Ugh. I do not open it. Nor do I delete it. I just leave it there—unread. I know what he wants to say. He wants to meet up with me and 'talk'. No way, Jose. No, thank you.
I hear footsteps and Link is back. "Laundry is done and you can get dressed now." He says, pointing to the bedroom.
Wait. Is that it? Do I just get dressed? Is it already time to leave? To be honest, I don't want to. I have this funny feeling that if I go home, everything will go back to the way it was and it'll be like this never happened.
Before I could say anything, a phone rings and he looks at me apologetically. "Be right back." He hurries off to the bedroom. So I get off my stool and… start looking around.
I can tell he's… Is secretive the right word? And he might not have any family left—because there are no framed pictures on the walls. He did say that we should take it slow. Maybe… we can start over again as friends and then we'll get to know each other.
I can hear him pacing around in the bedroom—talking to someone. He sounds… pissed.
"But you said this morning that it's been cancelled? I can't be there in ten minutes. That's on the other side of town."
Oh… He has somewhere to be. Better get dressed then. Disappointed, I pad my way barefoot to his bedroom with my bag. He looks at me when I come in and he raises a finger—to tell me to wait. But I wave him off and grab my clothes on the bed, heading into the bathroom before he could say another word.
I take a look in the mirror and I almost fall over. I look like shit. Complete shit. My hair has not dried properly so it sticks up in places. I should not have left it damp. And I have bags under my eyes. I look so pale I could be a ghost. Ugh! Dammit. I should have checked what I looked like before I came out earlier. Fuck.
Which means he's been looking at this face ever since. I groan, horrified at the thought. But there's nothing I can do about it and I will myself to at least be presentable.
My clothes are freshly laundered and still a bit warm from the dryer. They smell like soap and I sigh as I gather them up. He even washed my underwear and bra. I'm a bit… embarrassed but he's so cool and calm, he probably doesn't mind. So I shouldn't either…
I put on some eye cream and powder. Then I brush my hair using his with a grin on my face—feeling naughty. I didn't have one with me so what the hell, anyway. I don't think he would mind. After that, I brushed my teeth again. I checked myself in the mirror one last time then started to undress only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. I open it and peek outside.
"Hey." He says in that husky voice that I'm not fucking sure if he's doing it deliberately or not.
"Do you need the bathroom?" I ask.
He shakes his head and gestures for me to come outside. I follow him out. "Then…"
"Do you have somewhere you need to be?" He asks suddenly.
Well… It's Sunday. So not really… But I can't stay here forever. As much as I don't want to, I need to go back home sometime.
He faces me and his eyes are twinkling and he has a small smile on his face. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Okay. I admit. My heart fucking leaps. I can't help it. He's smiling at me and yes, I do not want to go home yet. Does this mean he's going to cook for me again?
But wait, girl. You can't be this easy to get. "Depends… What's for dinner?" I ask. Okay. That's not really playing hard to get, dammit.
He shrugs, unsure. "I don't know yet."
I giggle but he grins at me. "Sounds good." I say nonchalantly. "But what do we do until—" I stop midsentence—just realising what the hell am I saying.
He smirks at me and smiles suggestively but he doesn't say anything about it. He lets it go. "We can watch something."
It takes me a while to answer. But before I could overthink the situation, I stop myself. If watching something makes me stay here just a little bit longer, , I nod. "Okay."
We were cuddled up on the sofa. The heavy curtains were drawn to create a cinema feel and my socks-wearing feet were curled up under me. The socks were of course too big on me. But he did remember that I don't like getting my feet cold so I'm actually touched that he didn't forget.
His arm is around my shoulders. And I have to admit he was fucking cool about it. He didn't do the yawn-and-stretch-your-arms-and-put-your-arm-around-her move which is very lame and high-schooly. He asked me. About ten minutes into this movie that we were watching, he held out an arm with a questioning look.
"Come here." He said with that fucking husky voice I cannot resist.
Okay, fine. He didn't ask me, really. But I could have said no if I didn't want to—which I did. So I cuddled against his side and his arm is around my shoulders—his fingers drawing patterns on the exposed part of my arm, and it's sending shivers down my spine.
The movie we were watching is something random I picked up off Netflix. We were twenty minutes in when we realised that it was a sappy, romantic movie.
"Should I change it?" I ask him, reaching for the remote. But the arm around my shoulders tightened and I was pulled back to the couch. I looked up at him.
"You don't like it?" He asks.
I shrug. "I don't mind… It's just…"
"You think I don't like romantic movies or will judge you for them?" He says with a raised eyebrow.
"Nooo—yeaaah." I say lamely.
He smiles. "It's fine. We can watch this one."
So, I nestle myself back under his arm. I have decided that I'll just go with the flow on this one so I enjoy the feel of his warm body against mine. But I find it hard to concentrate on the movie when he shifts beside me and feel his breath on my ear.
"Question." He whispers.
I try to keep calm and steady. "Hmm?"
"Why did you stay?"
His question throws me off guard and I look back up at him. He's smiling at me but I can see the seriousness behind his eyes.
"You could have gone home. You could leave anytime you want. But why are you staying?" He asks softly.
The sounds from the movie is playing in the background and I ignore it. My heart is thumping loudly but no. I want to be honest. I don't want to overthink this.
My ex was always the one in control—telling me what to do, what to wear, where to be. I didn't have an opinion and he just assumes what I'm thinking. And I let him. I let him walk all over me. He's kept you under his thumb… I remember his words from last night. So I decide to be blunt and just be honest.
"Because you asked. And… I want to spend more time with you." I say—looking at him in the eyes. Maybe this way, I could have some sort of upper hand.
He doesn't flinch, nor does he look surprised. "Okay."
"Just 'okay'?"
He nods at me. "I guessed as much. I just wanted to confirm it."
"Okay."
"So you kind of like me?" He says, his eyebrows raised.
And I shrug—acting cool but the fucking butterflies in my tummy are zooming around like damn rockets. "You 'kind of like me' too. You wouldn't ask me to stay if you didn't." I say boldly. I'm grasping at straws here but I can't be the only one flustered.
He smiles that fucking sexy smile and for a moment I forget my name. "Fair point."
We stare at each other a few more moments but when he says nothing else, I settle back into his arms.
Fuck. I cannot believe I said that. And he just admitted that he sorts of like me too. I mean, I'm not stupid. He's definitely attracted to me or else he wouldn't ask me to stay and 'watch something'. It's been less than 24 hours. What's the catch, Life?!
But this honesty thing. It is… liberating.
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Link's face two inches away from mine. I gasp in surprise and he shifts in his sleep. It takes me a while to adjust my bearings. The TV is still on and figures are moving across the screen. But this is… this is not the movie we were watching earlier. There is no sound and I spy the mute icon at the upper right.
We're lying down on the couch and my head is—was buried against his neck. His arms are wrapped around me. I can feel his warm hand directly on my skin on my lower back where my shirt has rode up. It's sending sex signals up my brain and I try hard to ignore them.
We must have fallen asleep during the movie. Well, I don't blame myself. We both had a rough night—literally— and we were comfortable on the couch. But that doesn't explain why we're both lying down. So… I must have fallen asleep first and he took a nap with me.
I stare at his face just like I did this morning.
He really is too handsome for my own good. I trace his jaw with my finger and I softly—touch his hair too. He's blonde like me but more of a darker shade. His mouth is slightly open and I trace the edge of his lower lip. I remember our kisses last night and… okay. Stop thinking about it. But oh, fuck. Too late. Okay, breathe. Breathe—breathe.
"Why are you staring at me?" He says softly. I yelp in surprise but he chuckles, a low rumbling in his throat.
"How long have you been awake?!" I demand.
He opens his eyes. "A while. You were touching me."
I flush in embarrassment. "Sorry."
"Don't be. I think it's cute. Is it because I'm fucking handsome?" He rarely cusses but I think it's golden.
"You're teasing me." I squint at him.
"I know. But it's true, yes?" He says with a big grin.
And I give in and giggle. "Fine." I make to get up but he pulls me back in his embrace.
"Let's stay like this for a little longer." There's a hint of pleading in his voice and it makes my heart race. It's like he's deliberately making me fall for him.
But I let him pull me in. I am powerless against his charms. "Okay." I say meekly.
"You fell asleep near the end. And you were so cute, I couldn't wake you up." He says sleepily against my hair.
Okay. Hold up, Link. Hold the fuck up. Stop making my heart race, dammit. But we both flinch at the same time in surprise as we heard someone say, "So this is why you cancelled the shoot, yeah?"
I fly off the fucking couch with a scream at the muscular man with flaming red hair standing behind the couch staring at us with a mischievous smile on his face. He laughs at me as I back up several steps.
I clutch at my chest as I catch my breath.
"So, Link. Tell me. Who is she?" The man asks Link who was getting off the couch, running his hands through his hair. His hair has come undone from the tie. They both look at me and I feel vulnerable in my—well, his—shirt and shorts.
This is all too obvious. I am wearing his clothes and we were cuddling on the couch and who knows how long he's been standing there?! But I steel myself and clear my throat. "Uhm. Hi." I say.
He's looking at me from head to toe and I'm uncomfortable.
"Sidon, this is Zelda. Zelda—Sidon." Link says as he exhales deeply. He looks… troubled and out of place, scratching the back of his head. And I get the feel that this is a conversation I am not supposed to be in.
But Sidon stops me when I try to move out of the way. He holds up a large bag of food and waves it at me. "Hi, Zelda. Nice to meet you. Early dinner?"
I look at Link. He won't meet my eyes.
Is he fucking embarrassed of me?
"I told you not to come." Link hisses.
But Sidon is grinning as he makes his was to the kitchen and started taking out Chinese food in boxes. We follow him. Well, I'm following Link who's following him. "Honestly, Link. I am not angry at you for ditching the shoot. And you said you were sick!"
"How long have you been standing there? And why didn't you ring the doorbell?" Link whines.
Sidon shrugged. "I did. Several times. I even tried calling your phone. Luckily, I have the extra key you gave me for safekeeping. And I've been here for—secret." He gives me a playful wink and I bury myself in shame. Did he see me touch him while he was sleeping?
He turns to me. "Hi, again. From which agency are you?"
"Agency?" I ask, confused.
But Link shakes his head and sighs. "She's not…"
"She's not?!" Sidon exclaims. He raises an eyebrow at me and wiggles them suggestively. "I can make this happen, Link."
"Sidon—don't. She… doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?" I blurted out. I am not stupid. Agency—shoot? Is this some kind of fucking mafia thing?! IS HE MAFIA?! I try to calm my racing heart but I keep thinking of fast cars and men in suits and damn he will look good in a suit and shit shit shit what have I gotten myself into—
"You don't know him?" Sidon asks me, pointing at Link. His eyes are wide in disbelief.
Link is attacking the fried egg noodles with his chopsticks and looks at me apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" I am now more confused than ever. If they were some kind of spy, they wouldn't be acting this chill, right?
"Interesting." Sidon strokes his chin, looking at me intently. "Link is—"
"I'll tell her." The man in question interrupts. He puts down his chopsticks and reaches for my hand. He pulls me close. I feel slightly embarrassed since Sidon is watching but I'm starting to get a little pissed at no one answering me.
"Link, what the fuck is going on?"
He looks at me sheepishly—a change from his cool demeanor. "I'm a model and actor."
"His face is plastered all over billboards, hun." Sidon quips but Link stares him down.
I am stunned.
Okay… beyond stunned. So shoot is a photoshoot. And agency is a modelling agency. And Sidon is his… manager? This fucking work of art right in front of me is a literal work of art.
I had sex with a model.
I can't… I can't wrap my head around it. "Okay." I say quickly. Is this some kind of joke?
"I thought she's kidding?" Sidon asks a bit worried. But Link shakes his head. "No, she's not."
I take a seat beside Link, slightly numb. Sidon is across from us on the other side of the counter and he is wolfing down dumplings. He looks at me and fished around his backpacker for a card. "Hi, I am Sidon, his manager." He hands it to me. "Sorry for barging in on you."
The business card prints Sidon with 'manager' underneath. The modelling agency is a company I've never heard of before. I look up at him and he extends a hand. I shake it. "Hi, I'm Zelda."
He smiles at me, a big friend smile. I can tell he's bursting with questions. Even though Link is staring him down, Sidon does not back down. "Link never mentioned that he has a girlfriend—not even that he's dating."
"We're… not."
I nod in agreement with Link, embarrassed.
"Details. Spill." Sidon demands and points at us with his chopsticks. "I caught you in the act so 'fess up."
"We met a bar last night." Link says.
"Oh." Sidon says. He does not ask anymore questions about it. "But I'm curious as to how you don't know Link. He's not that famous but… he is famous."
"Sorry." I apologize. Now that I look at him, he really does look familiar. But… "I've never expected a model to be talking to me in a bar. So… expectations are a little low. And I don't read magazines or watch tv that much." I give him a small bow, "fuck me, right? I hope you're not offended that I didn't recognise you."
He shakes his head and smiles at me. "It's okay. No offence taken."
"And I don't pay attention to billboards. Sorry." I tell Sidon.
He's still looking at me intently. I blush under his gaze. Link is getting annoyed. "Stop staring, Sidon."
But he doesn't. "Has anyone ever told you that you should be a model?"
I cringe. Nope. Nope. Nope. I am not going through that… Again. "No, thank you." I say as I stuff my mouth with an egg roll.
"But—but—your hair and your looks and your skin!" Sidon pleads. "Are you foreign?"
"Half." I say with a laugh and shake my head. "Sorry, Sidon. Nope."
He gives up but I think not entirely. He's still looking at me curiously form time to time. I can tell he's up to try and convince me again. I try not to be bothered by it as I eat.
"But why didn't you tell me?" I ask Link.
He shrugs. "I…"
"He probably didn't want you to think that he's bragging about it." Sidon says.
I nod. "Well, that's reasonable." Come to think of it. He did ask me last night… If I was sure that I didn't know him. But I shrugged it off. And his clothes are probably sponsored by the brands he models. It also explains why he lives in an apartment like this. It explains the ginormous tv and the top-floor and everything else. I don't think I mind. It was his decision not to tell me. He doesn't have to tell me everything.
"So what do you do for a living?" Sidon asks.
"I'm an application developer. I code… and stuff." I tell Sidon.
"I wouldn't have pegged you for a programmer." He answers with quite a bit of shock on his face.
"He said the same thing." I point to Link.
"But I'm still putting it on the table. If ever you want to change careers, I'm your man." He says with finality that I nod, "yes yes yes."
They talk more about his schedule—more business-like as he brings out a tablet and scrolls through it with Link's schedule for the week. I leave them alone and munch on the food.
Thanks to Sidon's sudden visit, we had an impromptu dinner in the afternoon when it's not even past 6pm. He leaves after small talk but I can't shake the feeling that he's staring at me the whole time. I get that this situation is weird… and everything. But still.
When he left and Link closed the door behind him with a sigh of relief. He looks at me apologetically. "Sorry about that." He makes his way back to the living room where I was cleaning the counter and dumping the empty cartons in the trash.
"It's nothing." I say. I look out the window and see the sky darkening. I have work early tomorrow morning. And from the conversation earlier, he has a shoot too. I am thinking that… it's probably time for me to leave. We were in a bubble earlier and Sidon's arrival burst it.
I feel his arms around my waist from behind. His chest is pressed upon my back and his chin was on my shoulder. His breath is hot on my cheek. "I was hoping to spend more time with you and Sidon ruined it."
I melt.
I fucking melt.
Okay?! Can you blame me?! He's a fucking model—not that the fact changes anything. But still! We haven't known each other for at least 24 hours and he's fucking sweet.
Or horny.
I groan internally but keep my cool. If he can flirt with me, I can too.
"Do you have to go now?" He whispers as I wash my hands in the sink and he follows me as I wipe my hands dry on a kitchen towel.
I nod. "It's getting dark. And I have work tomorrow. You too."
He lets me go and I feel the absence of his warmth leave me. He strokes my hair instead. "Then go get dressed. I will take you home."
I smile at him. "I can go home by myself. There's Uber, you know."
"This is a plot so I'll know where you live." He says with a smirk and he prods my forehead with his finger.
Giggling, I turn around and he playfully smacks my butt. I run to the bedroom and start to get dressed. After freshening up, I get out of the room to see him dressed to. A simple sweatshirt and jeans makes him look like he's off to a runway but he hands me a leather jacket the same as his. I take it gratefully and he helps me put it on. He even holds my hair up as I fix the collar. "So sweet." I tease him. It still smells like cigarettes and cinnamon.
I expect him to let me go but instead he leans forward and presses his forehead against mine. I hold my breath.
"I've been trying to hold it in all day but I really want to kiss you." He says huskily.
I feel a thrill up my spine and everything that we did last night comes rushing back. I squirm underneath his gaze as he licks his lips. His arms come up to hold me around the waist and he pulls me close.
"May I?"
I want to. I want to kiss him. It's not just him who's been waiting all day. I've been waiting for him to make a move too. But I guess we were just waiting for each other. "Always so polite." I tell him as I link my hands around his neck and pull him closer.
He's a damn good kisser. There is no doubt about that. He really is. His lips are soft and firm and warm and I melt in his arms. His tongue battles with mine hesitantly and it sends shivers up and down my spine. It was not rough like last night. But more of a… getting-to-know-you type of kiss. But still—fucking good. It makes me breathless and I pant heavily when he pulls away.
This. This is how girls are supposed to be kissed. This is golden.
I am aware that I am blushing as he touches my cheek and holds my gaze. "Let me take you home."
I nod. "Okay"
We arrive at my apartment and I hop off from the back of his bike. It's completely dark now and the street is deserted. The night air is getting stronger and temperature is dropping. I hold his jacket tight against my body.
"So which one is you?" He asks, gesturing up to the windows.
I look up at my building. "Hmmm. That one. The one with the white flowers on the balcony." I point to the second floor where my window is.
"Do you live alone?" He asks.
I nod. "I used to have a roommate back in college but she moved out a long time ago." I say.
"Hmm." He surveys the area.
Should I ask him if he wants tea? Coffee? Or me?
"Want to come in for a bit?" I offer. I am nervous. I try to remember what my flat looks like right now but I'm sure its pretty clean.
Before he could answer, his phone rings and a flash of annoyance cross his face. He lifts a finger and tells me to wait as he answers it. "Sidon."
I can hear Sidon's voice at the other end of the line but cannot make out what he says. "I'm outside. Not at home. You can just leave them in the living room. I'll fix them up later."
He ends the call. "Sorry. Sidon forgot to give me something earlier—which is also the purpose of his whole visit."
I shrug. "That's fine."
"So does the offer still stand? Can I come in?" He asks with a smile on his face.
And I nod. I point to where he can park his bike and he follows me into the building. My heart is thumping. I feel like a fucking high schooler who's bringing home a boy from school and we're going to make out. We step inside and instead of the elevator—which I usually take because I'm a lazy ass even though I only live on the second floor—we take the stairs.
He looks a bit out of place in my building. Hurriedly, before any of my neighbours come out and see that I have a celebrity with me, I open my door and push him inside. I flip the lights and he removes his shoes by the door. I take off my heels too and put them in the shoe cabinet. I take our jackets and hang down at the rack by the door.
"Nice place." He says with a smile as he enters my living room and looks around.
"You can sit." I point to the couch as I head off to the kitchen and get him some water. He drinks gratefully and hands me the empty glass.
"So this is it." I spread my arms wide. "That's my bedroom. That's the bathroom. There is my kitchen and… that's my office."
"Office?" His eyebrows are raised.
I lead him to it and open the door. Inside is my workstation for those days when I work from home. I just have a desk, double monitors and a comfortable plush chair.
"Oh cool." He says. "You get to work from home?"
I nod. "Most of the time, really. I only come to the office when I have meetings or when they need me to."
"I still cannot imagine you typing away at a keyboard all day long." He smiles at me as he goes back to the living room and sits on the couch. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow morning?"
I nod. "I have a meeting with my clients at 8."
He groans. "I have a shoot at 6."
"6?! That's too early." I say. But he shrugs. "It'll probably be done by lunch time. Then I'm free the rest of the day."
I pick up on this but don't say anything. He's free… the rest of the day…. He picks up a book that I was reading off the coffee table and he flips through it absent-mindedly.
"I'll just get dressed. I'll be back, okay?" I ask him.
He nods. "Sure."
I make a beeline to my room and change into the best of my home clothes—the good ones without the holes. I tie my hair back in a ponytail—finally—and take a deep breath.
Link is outside in my living room.
A man who is not my boyfriend is outside waiting for me.
Do we have sex now?
My lips are all tingly and I remember our kiss. Is this what people usually think about? Do they walk around with sex on their minds? I calm myself down. He won't be able to stay for too long anyway since he has work early tomorrow.
I look at the clock. It's just a little past 7. It's relatively early. But what… what are we going to do? There's nothing to do here.
I come back out—he's probably wondering why the fuck I am taking so long to change. "Hey." I call out.
He's lounging casually on my couch looking like he owns the damn thing. He pats the seat next to him. "Want to make out?"
My eyes are probably as big as saucers as I stop dead in my tracks in front of him.
"Make out?" I utter the words and I cannot believe my ears. Did he really just say make out?!
He laughs and reaches for my hand. He pulls me down beside him and I am still recovering from shock. "You're so cute when I tease you."
"So you're just teasing me." I scowl. Dammit.
"The offer stands. But sorry if I keep on doing it. I can't help it." He brushes away a lock of hair that escaped my ponytail and tucks it behind my ear. His fingertips form a blazing path of heat. The words make-out and his ministrations are making my clamp my legs tightly together.
"I am not going to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable. I told you, you call the shots." He says as he puts the book back down on the coffee table.
I breathe. It's hard but I breathe. He doesn't say anything else so I take this as my exit and do not push the matter further.
Kissing him would lead to…
"Want me to turn the fucking tv on?" I say with a forced smile, breaking my chain of thoughts.
And he laughs at my cuss. "Please turn the fucking tv on."
I grab the remote and the screen turns to life. I hand him the remote and he switches channels, looking for something interesting. I don't watch that much tv but when I do, it's mostly Hollywood movies or the news. Then I remember that he's an actor.
"Which shows have you done?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "A few parts here and there. Some commercials. I'm more on the modelling side."
I rephrase my question. "Then which brands have you modelled for?"
He looks up at the ceiling—counting silently. "Ziya mostly—some perfume, beer and others."
I nod my head. Ziya is that eally high-end clothing brand for young upcoming professionals. I know it because my ex wears it to work and he got really mad that one time I spilled juice on his jacket accidentally. It's also the brand that he's wearing right now. Figures. "Are you in magazines a lot?" I ask.
He nods, a calculating look on his face. "So many questions."
I pout. "It's not everyday that I have a model in my apartment."
He smiles at me. "Sorry, I didn't tell you immediately. I'm just… Sidon said it anyway. I'm not the type to broadcast it. And usually, people know me." He teases.
I blush under his gaze. "I apologised for that already. I'm not that… keen into television and magazines and stuff."
He shakes his head. "I've been in the industry for about three years now. I'm not that famous yet. So, I don't blame you."
Minutes pass in silence as he switches to the news.
I stare at him from the corner of my eye. He looks so out pf place in my apartment, I can't help it. I still can't absorb what is happening right now. Having him in my own personal space is… making me giddy with nervousness and excitement. I keep on remembering last night. The kiss from earlier was fucking real. And this is real. Having him in my apartment is real.
Last night was also real. The sex was real.
HE IS REAL.
He's absent-mindedly biting his bottom lip as he looks at the tv, absorbing the news. It wakes something in me and I remember how he bit my lips. I cross my legs as I experience the familiar heat pool in my lower belly.
"You're staring at me." He whispers and turns slowly to look at me.
"Sorry." I say. I am not.
"What are you thinking?" He puts his arm around me and I feel a rush of heat surge within my body.
"Stuff."
"What kind of stuff? Sex stuff?" Trust him to say the right words.
I shrug. "Maybe."
"You have 'kiss-me' eyes." He says with a smile.
I look away immediately. But he reaches out and cups my cheek. He pulls me to face him again. "Don't look away."
"I'm embarrassed." I say but I will myself to look him in the eyes.
"Don't be." He rubs my cheek with his thumb but then lets me go. "I won't tease you anymore."
But he has the same look he was wearing earlier that night. And I know I'm not the only one holding back.
Well… we did say we should take it slow and see where this will take us. I let it go when he doesn't say anything else. I turn my attention at the tv where the news anchor was saying something.
"Now on to our weather report! As we mentioned yesterday, tonight—a thunderstorm is on its way. Some parts in the East may have already been under its cover! The wind is expected to pick up and everyone is advised to stay inside. In preparation for this storm, all classes in public and private schools have been cancelled tomorrow until further notice. A few flights in the international airport are now grounded due to zero visibility. As routine, electricity checks will be rolled out and if you find yourself in the middle of the dark—"
On queue, the lights went out and I freeze. Lightning flashed outside the window, illuminating his face for a split second.
"Did that just happen?" I whisper in the dark. In response, I hear the sudden downpour of rain outside, the sounds of thunder coming not long after.
"I think so." He whispers back.
I search for his hand in the dark and when I found it, he intertwines his fingers with mine. There is movement beside me. "I know I promised not to tease you anymore. But I don't think I can go home right now."
His breath is hot in my ear.
And he squeezes my hand. I think I can actually hear my heart beating wildly against my chest amidst the sound of rain and rumbling thunder.
"Can I stay tonight?" I feel his lips tickling my earlobe.
I take a deep breath. I can't send him out in that rain.
I know why I invited him inside. I wanted to spend more time with him. And Fate, the fucking meddler, decides to step in and help me have just that. He promises not to tease me anymore but he keeps on doing it. And I like it. I'm certain I do.
Who am I to deny the temptress? I am still waiting for the catch. He is too good for me. Too perfect. There has to be a fucking catch. There has to be something wrong with him. But like the past 24 hours, I don't care. I give in.
"Okay."
I am still not sure if this should be a full-blown story. —Mackenziiee