MELISSA
I woke the next morning to the sound of water running in the bathroom. My heart sank as I remembered yesterday’s events. I needed to apologize to Damien.
Just then, the bathroom door swung open, and he stepped out, a towel wrapped securely around his waist. Water droplets clung to his skin, glistening in the morning light. Our eyes met, and an awkward silence enveloped us, thick with unspoken words.
“Damien,” I began hesitantly, pushing myself into a sitting position, “about yesterday… I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for things to escalate like that.”
He paused, a sigh escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back in frustration.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he replied, his voice surprisingly soft. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I let
