Bianca
The bed feels foreign and lonely. The sheets are harsh andcool, yet contemplating asking Niko to join me to make me feel less lonely after the last few hours of tenderness between us feels like a far-fetched fantasy that's most definitely not reachable.
So I persevere, replaying today over in my mind on fast forward as I agonise over every interaction I have had, said and done.
I should have told him about my virginity and who took it.
I should have run.
I shouldn't have kissed him.
I should let him in...
Arguing with myself seems pointless, yet I keep coming to the same conclusions.
I toss and turn and sigh into the silent, dark room, puffing the pillow because, despite its depth, I still sink into it. The bed faces the window, looking out over the ocean, which is a hug
