It's his Lips, Everytime

"His smile lights up the world, but his lips ignite my soul.” POV Khadhija's ~ The young woman, nestled in her spacious emperor-sized bed, tugged herself beneath the plush white blanket, attempting to evade the intrusive rays of morning sunlight. As she shifted to shield her face, her hip brushed against an unexpected presence behind her. Startled, she recoiled momentarily before cautiously returning to her original position, her green eyes fluttering open to survey the situation. In the tranquillity of the summer morning, the room exuded a comforting calmness, its temperature perfectly regulated by the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Every detail seemed meticulously arranged in her room , from the cleanliness to the neatly hung clothing. Yet, amidst this orderliness, two individuals lay on the bed, partially naked, their memories of the previous night shrouded in mystery. Sensing the incongruity of the scene, the young woman couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as she began to piece together the fragments of the situation. The deep voice of the young man interrupted her thoughts, "You're already awake? Aren't you tired?" The words tingled her soft pink ears, adding a blush to her cheeks. She turned to scrutinise him, a man in his early twenties, possessing a well-proportioned physique with a sculpted jawline. Her attention, however, fixated on his lips, finding them remarkably captivating. His lips were a study in perfection, neither too thin nor too full, but possessing a captivating allure that transcended mere physicality. Their shape was harmonious, complementing the contours of his face with a subtle grace. A natural shade of pink adorned them, hinting at vitality and warmth. Yet, it was not just their appearance that drew attention; it was the way they moved, effortlessly conveying a myriad of emotions with every smile, every word spoken. Soft and inviting, they seemed to beckon with an irresistible charm, leaving an indelible impression on those fortunate enough to behold them. In a mumbled admission, she couldn't help but express, "That's so beautiful." His black eyes twinkled, a soft laughter escaping his lips, leaving her feeling a bit embarrassed about her candid thoughts. "Who are you, sir?" she inquired, attempting to make sense of the situation. As he sat up, revealing his whole upper body, she was momentarily surprised. Shaking off the distraction, she turned around to continue the interrogation, only to be interrupted by a call that momentarily halted their conversation at its current level. She hurriedly answered the call, her subconscious guilt weighing on her mind as she recognized the voice on the other end. "Mom?" she stammered, struggling to regain her composure. Listening to the one-sided conversation without offering a reply, she stole a glance at the man behind her, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of the situation. "Are you Taner?" she asked tentatively, her voice laced with apprehension, as she ended the call with her mother. With a nervous gulp, she braced herself to confront the reality of her actions from the previous night. He remained silent about her inquiry, opting instead to lean towards her, gently rubbing her head. "After drinking my hangover soup, you'll remember my shirt brand too. Go wash your face. I forgot to remove your makeup last night before putting you to sleep," he instructed. Those simple words and the accompanying gesture sent her heart into a frenzy. His proximity had stirred embarrassment and butterflies in her stomach, but his casual remark swiftly extinguished the fleeting excitement. As she walked towards the restroom, her thoughts echoed with a resounding "What the hell." Standing before the mirror, she examined her hangover face, smudge eyeliners, and the lingering lipstick, realising it didn't quite translate to a good morning look. She gently washed her face with cold water, tying her hair up before brushing her teeth. As she rinsed the toothpaste foam from her mouth, she muttered to herself, "I'm not young anymore, so it's not wrong to have a guy at home, right?" Suddenly, her mother's words echoed in her mind, "Take good care of him, he'll be staying for a couple of months. Don't embarrass me in front of my longtime friend." It all began to make sense now—the vague recollections of last night's drunkenness triggered by her friend's fifth breakup of the year , and returning home to find a handsome young man waiting at her door. As she contemplated the events of the previous night, a knock on the bathroom door startled her. Taner's voice followed, “ Khadija?” gently checking up on her. She quickly composed herself, ready to face whatever the day had in store. She cautiously opened the door, stealing a glance into the room before fully facing him. The embarrassment of revealing a less polished side to her mother's guest weighed on her. As she stepped into the living room, she couldn't help but notice Taner—a tall and handsome figure in track pants, shirtless. His tanned skin and well-defined muscles caught her eye, and she took a lingering gaze before pretending to look away. Clearing her throat, she made her presence known, ready to address the aftermath of the previous night. Taner turned around, presenting a plate filled with delicious morning food, its aroma tantalising Khadija's senses. However, before she could indulge, her gaze fell upon some luggage and some tourist bags, prompting a sudden urge to apologise. "I am so sorry for yesterday," she blurted out, bowing her head reflexively. "Sorry? For what exactly?" Tanner's voice carried a hint of coldness, his dark eyes reflecting a sense of displeasure that sent chills down Khadija's spine. Khadija's words stumbled out in a rush of guilt and regret. "Did I make any mistakes yesterday? I have strange drunken habits. I should have welcomed my mother's guest with a better scenario." She felt the weight of her actions pressing down on her, not wanting to tarnish her image within her mother's social circle or become the subject of gossip. "So you don't remember anything?" Taner's words held a sense of intrigue and mystery as he approached Khadija with deliberate, measured steps, his demeanour a blend of curiosity and strength. "Did... Did something happen?" Khadija questioned, her voice laced with uncertainty as she attempted to conceal her apprehension behind an awkward smile and furrowed eyebrows. "What do you think about this?" Taner asked, turning his neck to reveal marks on his neck and shoulders, along with bruises on his chest. Khadija's eyes widened in terror. "Did I cause those?" she gasped, taking a step back from him, her expression filled with remorse. Approaching her again, Taner reassured, "I don't need an apology but..." His sentence was cut short by the sound of the doorbell ringing. With a mixture of surprise and anticipation, Khadija's fox-like eyes transformed into doe-like ones. Expecting her mother's arrival, she hastily threw a bathrobe over Taner and moved his luggage aside before rushing to open the door to greet the unexpected visitor.