Chapter 12 — “The Morning After”
670 Words
Soft morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, brushing over Lily’s face as she slowly opened her eyes. For a moment she didn’t remember why her bed felt warmer… why her heart felt strangely full.
Then she felt the weight of an arm around her waist.
Her breath caught.
Professor Hale was still holding her.
Not loosely.
Not by accident.
His arm was firm, protective, as if even in sleep he refused to let go.
Lily shifted slightly, and he stirred behind her. His breath warmed her shoulder before he inhaled sharply—waking, remembering, freezing.
“Lily…” His voice was husky from sleep and shock. “You’re—still here.”
“You’re the one holding me,” she whispered back.
He quickly loosened his hold, pulling back just enough to give her space, though the warmth of him still lingered against her skin.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep like this.”
She turned to face him.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I asked you to stay.”
He nodded slowly, but his expression was conflicted—tenderness fighting with restraint.
“I crossed a line last night,” he murmured. “That kiss on your neck—I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t apologize,” she whispered.
He looked at her like she had just undone him.
A long, deep stare that held every feeling he was too disciplined to say aloud.
But then he exhaled and forced himself to sit up, rubbing a hand across his face.
“We need boundaries,” he said quietly, though the words trembled. “You’re my student.”
“And you’re my flatmate,” she countered, her voice softer but firmer than she expected. “We have to figure out how to exist in the same space.”
“And keep our hands to ourselves,” he added, though the way he glanced at her lips contradicted everything he was trying to enforce.
Silence settled between them—warm, tense, unfinished.
Then Lily broke it with a shy laugh.
“You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep much,” he admitted. “I kept… listening to your breathing.”
Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look away.
“I liked waking up next to you,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a long moment, something dark and longing flickering in his eyes before he finally stood.
“We should get breakfast,” he said, voice steadying. “Clear our heads.”
But the moment he turned toward the door, Lily’s phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Louis: Good morning 🥰 Did you sleep okay?
Professor Hale saw the message.
His entire body went rigid.
The jealousy was instant, sharp, unhidden.
Lily grabbed the phone quickly, but his gaze didn’t leave her screen.
“You’re still talking to him?” he asked, voice low—controlled, but only barely.
“He’s a friend,” she said calmly.
“A friend who sends heart emojis,” he muttered.
She crossed her arms.
“And what about it?”
He stepped closer—too close—his jaw tense, his eyes locked on hers with a heat she felt down to her bones.
“You know exactly what,” he said softly, dangerously.
Her heartbeat thudded.
“Arden…” she whispered his name before she could stop herself.
He inhaled sharply at the sound of it—the way it fell off her lips like a secret.
But instead of kissing her again, he forced himself to step back.
“I need to shower,” he said, his voice tight. “We’ll talk after breakfast.”
He left the room quickly, as if afraid of what he’d do if he stayed one second longer.
Lily sat on the bed, phone clutched in her hand, her heart racing.
Because for the first time…
she realized he wasn’t just jealous.
He was falling.
And pretending he wasn’t was becoming impossible.
- Writer
