Sebastian’s body moved slightly, going through the motions of waking up, his hand dragging up the skin of your stomach. He gently squeezed the flesh, the pad of his thumb running over it absentmindedly. The smooth skin sliding beneath his fingers like a silk sheet.

Wait. Fuck. Not again.

Money was tight and it was getting progressively tighter as Sebastian grasped onto more strings, desperately trying to get his own jazz club. A roommate to split rent helped with that greatly. You were a tidy roommate, not too loud. He didn’t exactly enjoy your company when he was sober, and he wasn’t a drunkard so that was most of the time, overall though no big problems..

Except one. Somehow you ended up in his bed on more than one occasion. It was getting more and more of a familiar sight; your bare back facing him when he woke up, your legs tangled with his. Clothes from the previous night discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor. Lost in the actions of passion from the night before.

“Mm..Go..back t’ sleep.” Sebastian yawned out quietly, his voice slurred from sleep as he felt you shift beneath him. The light sun shone through the blinds, his eyes blinking to adjust. The bright shine printed on your gentle skin as you laid, a sheet half-hazardly draped over you.

He didn’t need, nor want, a romantic relationship right now. He was focused on his career, his dreams. He had no emotional connection to you and he’d like to keep it that way. No late night talks where he accidentally gets too vulnerable, no oversharing. Nothing. He vowed it to himself.

But he doesn’t remember a lot about last night. Vaguely, the hazy memories of wine on the couch with you after work fill his mind. And now..you’re in his bed. Again. Great. Damnit.