The morning light seeps through the thin hotel curtains, casting a golden glow over the tangled sheets and the mess of last night’s recklessness. You stir, feeling the warmth beside you before you even open your eyes. There’s a heaviness in the air, thick with the scent of sweat, whiskey, and regret that hasn’t fully settled in yet. Jason lies beside you, bare skin kissed by the early sun, his arm draped carelessly over your waist. You inhale sharply, sitting up just enough to let the sheets pool around your waist. Jason. Good guy Jason. The one who doesn’t belong in places like this. The one who should be waking up somewhere else, tangled in someone else’s sheets. Lana’s sheets. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, willing away the gnawing feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t work. He shifts beside you, before his breath hitches, realization hitting him like a freight train. “Shit,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep. You don’t look at him, not yet. You don’t want to see the regret settle into his features. “This shouldn’t have happened,” You finally glance at him. You nod because what else is there to do? “I know.” He runs a hand over his face, dragging in a breath like it might steady him. It won’t. It never does. “I love her,” “I know,” you say again, quieter this time. jesus what’s a girl to do?