Sapphire's POV
There was no point pretending otherwise. I could still feel traces of it in the quiet spaces between my thoughts, in the way my body seemed heavier and lighter at the same time. The memory lingered, not sharp, not overwhelming, but present. Warm.
And if I were being honest with myself, I had enjoyed it.
We had both been drunk. That much was true. The haze of alcohol had softened the edges of hesitation, blurred the lines between what should have been questioned and what was simply allowed to unfold. But even then, I couldn't call it an accident. Not completely.
I had chosen it too.
Morning light spilled through the window, pale gold and uninvited, stretching across the floor until it reached the edge of the bed. I sat there quietly, pulling the blanket a little closer around myself, as if it could shield me from the weight of what came after.
Because there was always something that came after.
I heard movement beside me. Ghoth.
He shifted slightly, the mattress dipping under his weight. When I finally glanced at him, his expression wasn't what I expected. There was no awkwardness, no regret. Just something… earnest. Something that made my chest tighten in a way I didn't like.
He looked at me like last night meant something more.
And that was exactly the problem.
"Are we… together now?" he asked.
His voice was careful, like he was stepping onto uncertain ground. "I mean… are we in a relationship starting today?"
I froze for a second.
There it was. The question I had already anticipated, yet still wasn't ready to answer.
"No."
The word slipped out before I could soften it.
His reaction was immediate. "Huh?! Why?"
There was no anger in his tone, just confusion. Genuine, unfiltered confusion.
I looked away, focusing on the faint patterns the sunlight made on the floor. It was easier than meeting his eyes.
"Because I'm not ready for something like that," I said quietly.
I paused, searching for words that wouldn't sound as cold as they felt.
"Where I come from… this kind of thing isn't unusual. People… do things like this without being in a relationship."
Even as I said it, I could feel the gap between our worlds stretching wider.
He frowned slightly. "That's strange. How does something like that become normal?"
I let out a small breath, almost a laugh, but not quite.
"You'd be surprised what people get used to."
Silence settled between us for a moment. Not uncomfortable, but heavy. Like something important was waiting to be decided.
"I'm really not ready, Ghoth," I continued, softer this time. "But I'm not saying it was a mistake either. I wanted it too."
That part mattered. At least, I wanted it to.
He watched me carefully, as if trying to understand something deeper than the words themselves.
"I'll wait," he said.
The certainty in his voice made my chest tighten again.
"No matter how long it takes."
I hadn't expected that.
I glanced at him again, properly this time. There was no hesitation in his expression. No doubt. Just quiet determination.
It unsettled me more than if he had been angry.
I thought about what he said.
About waiting.
People always said things like that at the beginning. It was easy to promise patience when emotions were still new, still bright. But time had a way of wearing those promises down, turning them into something fragile… and eventually, into nothing.
"You might get tired of waiting," I said.
I didn't know why I said it. Maybe I wanted to plant the idea early. Maybe I wanted to protect myself from something I hadn't even agreed to yet.
Hoping he would step back on his own so I wouldn't have to be the one to push him away later.
"I'll still wait," he replied.
Just like that.
No hesitation. No reconsideration.
I looked away again.
Why was he making this harder than it needed to be?
"Then how about this," I said after a moment, forcing a more casual tone. "Since I'm not ready for a relationship… you can look for someone else. Someone you actually like. And as for us…"
I hesitated for the briefest second before continuing.
"We can still do what we did last night. Quietly. In secret." At least, that's what I told myself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his expression change. Something in him dimmed.
Before I could fully process it, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around me. The warmth of his embrace caught me off guard. It wasn't possessive. It wasn't demanding, but... gentle.
"Why does it have to be hidden?" he asked softly.
His voice was different now. Quieter. Not confused anymore, but something else.
"I wouldn't be a burden to you. I'll follow whatever you want. I won't do anything you don't like."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
That was exactly the kind of thing I didn't want to hear.
"I already told you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I don't want that. I'm not ready."
I pulled back slightly, just enough to create space between us.
"And I'm giving you time to find someone else. But if you… need something… you can just come to me."
The words sounded harsher when spoken out loud than they had in my head.
"If you want to relieve yourself, just… call me."
There it was. The line I had crossed so many times before that it barely felt like one anymore.
But this time, something about it felt different.
Maybe it was the way he was looking at me.
Or maybe it was the quiet guilt settling in the back of my mind.
I turned away again, unable to hold his gaze.
Sorry.
The word stayed in my head, unspoken.
Back where I came from, my life had been… simple in a different kind of way. Stress from work, constant pressure, expectations that never really ended. I had found my own ways to cope.
Relationships, if you could even call them that, were temporary. Convenient. Built on mutual understanding, or sometimes just unspoken agreements.
I would let them think it meant something more. Just enough to keep them around for a while.
And when I got bored… or when it became inconvenient… I would slowly pull away.
Make them feel like they didn't matter anymore.
Then I'd move on.
Find someone new.
Repeat.
It wasn't something I was proud of.
But it was something I had gotten used to.
And now… here I was, offering the same thing to someone who didn't seem to understand that kind of world at all.
Ghoth wasn't like the people I used to know.
That much was obvious.
He wasn't playing the same game.
And maybe that was why this felt… uncomfortable.
Dangerous, even.
Because for the first time, I wasn't entirely sure I was the one in control.
The room grew quieter.
The sunlight had shifted, climbing higher, brighter, as if the day was moving forward whether we were ready or not.
Ghoth didn't say anything for a while.
Neither did I.
But I could feel it.
The distance between us had changed.
Not physically. He was still right there.
But something invisible had settled in the space between us.
Something fragile.
Something that could either break… or grow into something I wasn't ready to face.
And I didn't know which outcome scared me more.