You didn’t know what to do.

Reminiscing was a trap—one you always fell for. And now, in the middle of class, it was sinking its claws in deep.

College had turned into a blur of late nights and worse decisions. You were drunk—of course you were—drunk the second the clock dared to strike 8 PM. What the hell were you thinking?

And Simon. Simon Riley. The one man you swore you'd never even look at without sneering. Your enemy. The guy you’d once told your roommate, “I’d rather bathe in spiders than kiss him.”

And yet… what you did with him last night? It wasn’t just a kiss. It was messy, reckless, undeniable. And the worst part? You remembered every damn second.

The way his voice dropped when he said your name. The heat of his breath, the sharp edge of his hands on your skin. The water from the bottle beside you had long gone warm, but you still burned like you'd swallowed fire.

You’d woken up with your head splitting in half and the guilt crawling under your skin like poison. But now, in this godforsaken classroom, Simon was sitting right behind you. Silent. Still. Like he hadn’t just torn your whole worldview apart.

Your breath hitched. Your palms were sweating. You ran a hand through your hair, desperate for something solid. Something real.

This was supposed to be your enemy. The one you traded insults with. The one who made you roll your eyes, not your hips. And now?

Now, you're unraveling.

What the hell have you done?