"Alan, why the hell did you drink that much?" she laughed, pulling my boots off.
"I… don't know my limit yet," I mumbled, forcing my eyes open. A girl—too close, too warm—was trying to pull my hoodie off. "Thanks… Alma."
"Come on. Lie down properly," she said, grabbing my elbow.
I tried to move.
Missed.
Dropped back onto the bed—and dragged her down with me.
"I'm… completely wasted," I laughed. It came out wrong. Loose. Not really mine.
Alma ended up beside me, then pushed herself up on her elbows and just… looked at me.
"What?" I asked, laughing again for no reason. Everything felt off. Too light. Too distant.
"You really do have beautiful eyes, Holivan," she said quietly. "Hard to look away."
The laughter died.
"Thanks," I said. "You're beautiful too, Alma. Really."
She sat up, pulling her legs in. I forced myself upright, leaning back against the headboard. The room tilted. Didn't stop.
"You know…" she said, quieter now, "I've got plenty of experience. But I've never done it with someone I actually wanted."
My brain lagged.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean sex," she said, with that same crooked, bitter smile.
And just like that—
everything snapped into focus.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"You said I'm beautiful."
"You are."
"Then why don't you look at me like that?" she asked. "I've never seen it. Not once." Her eyes locked onto mine. "Am I not good enough for you to want me? Or is it my past?" A pause. "Do I disgust you?"
"No!" I snapped—too fast, too sharp. The room spun harder. I grabbed the bed to steady myself. "No. I'm just… drunk. I don't think straight. But I don't feel disgust. Not toward you. Not at all."
"Then prove it," she said. No hesitation. "Kiss me."
I froze.
A second too long.
And that was enough.
Something in her expression shifted. Closed off. Like she already understood.
That hurt more than anything she said.
She really was beautiful.
Alive.
Anyone would want her.
Just not me.
It wasn't Alma.
It was me.
"I don't want a woman," I said quietly. The thought finally clear. Solid. "Not like that."
But I could still prove one thing.
"Wait," I said, catching her by the elbow before she could pull away.
I pulled her closer. Forced myself to focus until her face stopped slipping out of place.
"I don't care about your past, Alma. I've told you that. If you want proof that touching you doesn't disgust me…"
I leaned in.
Pressed my lips to hers.
Soft.
Warm.
Yielding.
I closed my eyes—
and replaced her.
Andrew.
The thought came on its own.
It made it easier.
I deepened the kiss, sliding my hand into her hair, pulling her closer. She responded instantly—like this, right here, was exactly what she'd been waiting for.
"Do you believe me now?" I asked, pulling back just enough to breathe.
"You just gave me my first real kiss," she said, smiling—but it didn't reach her eyes. "Funny, right? Coming from a former whore?"
I shook my head.
"It's true," she went on. "I never felt anything before. Not from kisses. Not from any of them. Because I didn't want them."
She leaned in again.
I didn't stop her.
I thought I could do it again.
It wasn't disgusting.
But there was nothing there.
No pull.
No want.
Nothing.
Then—
Silius.
The memory hit hard. Sharp. Wrong.
I pulled back immediately.
"No. Not him."
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"No. Just… dizzy."
"Then lie down," she said, easing me back and swinging her leg over my hips.
Her hands slipped under my shirt.
Cold.
My body tensed immediately.
"Relax," she murmured. "I'm not letting your first time happen when you're this drunk."
Her fingers kept moving. Slow. Certain.
"But I still want you to remember tonight."
Her hand traced along the line of my jeans.
Deliberate.
Watching me.
"Alma, I…" I started.
Nothing.
My head was empty.
I didn't want this.
But I didn't want to hurt her either.
And I couldn't think.
She pulled my jeans down. I lifted my hips automatically, then dropped back.
"This is better," she whispered, brushing a quick kiss against my lips before moving lower—neck, chest—
Her hand closed around me through the fabric.
I flinched.
"Don't tense up. Just let me do it."
I shut my eyes.
Let it happen.
It felt good.
My body reacted.
That was enough.
I wanted to try this.
With a woman.
At least once.
So why not now?
Then—
Andrew again.
Clear.
Too clear.
My body reacted instantly.
Alma let out a quiet, satisfied sound. She pushed my underwear down and wrapped her hand around me.
I tilted my head back, breathing uneven.
The first touch of her tongue made my whole body jerk.
The second—
I couldn't hold it back.
"God…"
It was different.
Sharper.
Stronger.
Too much.
Too fast.
I groaned again, my body tightening as the pressure built.
"Don't hold back," she murmured, pulling back for a second—then taking me deeper again.
"I can't—" I gasped.
A knock.
I ignored it.
Didn't care.
The door opened.
Instinct kicked in—I grabbed the blanket, dragging it over her, turning toward the door—
She didn't stop.
Didn't even slow down.
I met Clyde's eyes—
And everything snapped.
White.
Overwhelming.
My body jerked hard as it hit, tearing a broken sound out of me.
I couldn't stop it.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
Just—
fell apart.