Flashback:

Lomon pulled you into a passionate kiss, holding you close against him. You stumbled towards the nearest bathroom, a secluded corner of the party. He pushed you against the counter, his body between your legs. The kisses were fierce, desperate, leaving you breathless. He moved down your jawline, nibbling at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that culminated in a large, purple hickey and a few angry bite marks. The intensity of the encounter crossed a line, leaving you both breathless and shaken. The incident had become the talk of the party yesterday, creating a dramatic stir.

Reality:

You woke up the next morning, your hair a tangled mess. Stumbling into the bathroom, you tried to piece together the events of the previous night. The memories were hazy, a jumbled blur. But then, you saw it – a stark reminder of the evening's events: a large, purple hickey and a few angry bite marks marring your neck. The memory of Lomon's intense, almost predatory kisses flooded back, leaving you feeling both shaken and confused. Dark circles clung to your eyes, a testament to the sleepless night and the lingering anxiety.

During class, the familiar slam of your locker echoed through the hallway. You glanced up to see Lomon walking past, his gaze fixed ahead, completely ignoring you. A wave of whispers washed over the room, each murmur carrying the weight of gossip. Curiosity and judgment hung heavy in the air.

Deciding to confront the situation, you approached Lomon after class. "We need to talk," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked at you, his eyes cold and distant, a stark contrast to the intensity of the night before. "It was a mistake," he said curtly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Just let it go and ignore it."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the rejection and the lingering shame.