01: shared night

The air hung heavy, thick with the intoxicating scent of jasmine and a chilling undercurrent of fear. Rosslyn, lay beneath the weight of a stranger, his rough touch a jarring contrast to the delicate blooms of the jasmine that wafted through the window. She was trapped, a bird caught in a hunter's snare, her breath shallow and quick.

"Fiona," the man murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent another shiver down her spine. "I love you."

But Rosslyn, her mind still clinging to the edges of a nightmare, couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation. She wondered if it was all a dream, a cruel and twisted fantasy, or a horrifyingly real event.The remnants of the nightmare clung to Rosslyn like a damp, chilling shroud. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat that echoed the terror of her dream. "S--stop!" she whispered, the words catching in her throat. She sat up, the crisp cotton sheets rustling around her, and stared at the man beside her. He was still asleep, his back to her, his dark hair a mess of tousled waves against the pillow.

The memory of the night before, the whirlwind of emotions, the intoxicating rush of connection, all came flooding back. It was a blur, a kaleidoscope of stolen glances, whispered confessions, and the electric thrill of their first kiss. She had never felt so alive, so seen, so understood. Yet, the nightmare had shattered that fragile sense of security, leaving her with a gnawing unease. After all the man beside her was her sister's boyfriend Damian.

"Mm," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. She couldn't quite grasp the reality of the situation, the dizzying heights of their newfound intimacy. The man stirred, his back still turned towards her. He mumbled something unintelligible, his voice husky with sleep.

Rosslyn reached out, her fingers tentatively brushing against his bare arm. The warmth of his skin sent a shiver down her spine. She wanted to pull him closer, to seek comfort in his presence like last night, but a wave of fear washed over her. What if this was all a dream, a fleeting illusion? What if she woke up tomorrow and found herself alone, the memory of the night before fading like morning mist?

She drew her hand back, her heart aching with a bittersweet longing. The man shifted, his back still facing her, and she felt a pang of disappointment. He was still asleep, oblivious to her internal turmoil.

Rosslyn lay back down, the sheets tangled around her legs. She closed her eyes, trying to force the nightmare out of her mind, but the images lingered, a dark stain on the canvas of her happiness. She knew she couldn't hide from the truth, from the fear that gnawed at her. She had to face it, to understand it.

But how could she when the man beside her was still asleep, his presence a comforting weight, a reminder of the night before, something real, something beautiful? She wished she could rewind time, relive the night, savor every moment, every touch, every stolen glance. But time, like a relentless river, flowed forward, carrying her towards an uncertain future.

Rosslyn sighed, her breath a soft whisper against the cool air. She knew she had to talk to him, to share her fears, to understand what this meant, what they meant to each other. But for now, she would simply let the silence envelop her, a comforting cocoon of shared intimacy, a fragile hope for a future that was yet to be written.

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