Chapter 3 The Unexpected
975 Words
When Soraya drunkenly kissed Alaric Del, he froze for a moment, his mind blank.
He could feel the softness of her lips, and his breath quickened. But soon, his rationality kicked in, and he knew that Soraya wasn't in her right mind.
He gently pushed her away. "You're drunk, miss. Let me take you home."
His gaze lingered on the lipstick smudged from the kiss. The bright red color had smeared, trailing out from the corners of her lips. The sight made his breath catch.
Internally, Alaric was a storm of emotions, but he kept his composure, asking softly, "Miss, where do you live?"
Soraya's legs gave way, and she collapsed into his arms. Her fingers trailed slowly from his collar down to his abdomen, feeling his heart beat faster with each passing second. She whispered, "Take me to your place."
Alaric chuckled, though it was unclear whether it was out of helplessness or some other, deeper desire.
Without hesitation, he scooped Soraya up and carried her to his apartment.
He didn't have any intentions of taking advantage of her. He carefully laid her down on his bed and tucked her in. Though he knew he should leave, he found himself reluctant to pull away, unable to tear his gaze from her.
The woman he had thought of day and night was now right in front of him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was a dream.
He had planned to sleep in the next room, but just as he turned to leave, Soraya grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw her eyes flutter open, her gaze cloudy, a smile lingering on her lips. The sight sent waves of longing crashing through his chest.
"Don't go..." she murmured.
Alaric's resolve cracked instantly. He sat back down at the edge of the bed, leaning over her. He was about to ask if she needed water, but before he could speak, Soraya wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. The proximity made his heart race, her warmth igniting something deep inside him.
"Kiss me," Soraya whispered against his ear, her breath warm against his skin.
Alaric, though sober, was overwhelmed by the atmosphere, his mind spinning with desire. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead, her cheek, her chin, all the way down to her smooth neck.
As her hand fell away from him, he grasped it, lifting it to his lips. His body trembled, yet he fought the impulse, keeping the kiss slow and tender.
His lips met the cold, hard silver ring on her finger.
Frowning slightly, Alaric removed the ring, tossing it carelessly to the floor.
He studied Soraya's face for any sign that she was truly enjoying the kiss, but it was clear she wasn't fully aware of what was happening. Her actions were only guided by alcohol, not genuine intention.
Alaric paused, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. Finally, he pressed a final, gentle kiss to her brown hair, then pulled himself away. He then moved to the kitchen and returned with a warm glass of honey water.
"Drink this. It'll help you feel better in the morning," he said, sitting beside her and propping her up so she could drink.
Soraya's POV:
The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. My first feeling was a sense of panic and fear.
I'd drunk way too much last night, and I could barely remember what had happened. All I could recall was that I had kissed a man and let him take me to his place.
I was pretty sure I liked the scent of his cologne, but I hadn't even properly looked at his face!
He had to be handsome, right? Otherwise, I'd be pretty upset with myself. I silently prayed that he wasn't too ugly.
I slowly surveyed my surroundings and realized I was alone in the room. I pulled the covers back and saw that I was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
'Well, at least he was a gentleman,' I thought to myself.
Just then, I heard footsteps and a knock on the door. "Miss, are you awake? I just went down to get breakfast."
"Come in," I replied.
The door opened, and a tall man stepped inside. As it turned out, he was exactly as I had imagined: a true gentleman. He appeared to be in his thirty, with neatly combed golden hair and deep, soulful brown eyes that conveyed kindness.
He handed me a paper bag. "I'm Alaric. I wasn't sure where you lived, so I brought you here to stay the night. I hope you don't mind."
"Sorry for your trouble. I'm Soraya," I said, accepting the bag. Inside was a croissant and a glass of apple juice.
I felt a small sense of pleasant surprise. I had expected him to bring coffee like most people would, but apple juice, especially for breakfast, was perfect for me.
I wasn't a big coffee fan, but I loved the refreshing, sweet-sour taste of apple juice. It always gave me the energy I needed to start my day.
"Thank you for breakfast," I said, feeling a bit more warmth toward him.
After finishing the meal, I sincerely thanked him again and got ready to leave. Though I had a positive impression of Alaric, I wasn't looking for anything more than a kind gesture. I needed time to heal from what Zane had done to me and rebuild my trust in men.
Alaric didn't try to stop me or ask for my number. Instead, he graciously escorted me downstairs and even called a car for me.
As I was on my way home, my phone rang. It was the butler. "Miss, Mr. Sherwood has had an accident. Please come to the hospital immediately!"
- Writer
