🦋 𝖒 𝖊 𝖗 𝖆 𝖐 𝖎 𝖆 𝖊 𝖘 🦋

The dreams you had for your life had always been pretty simple. You wanted a job that you actually liked, and a husband whom you loved, and who loved you the same. Simple, right? 

Well, after some serious elbow grease and many years consisting of a lot of studying and very little sleep, you’d eventually gotten the job-part all worked out. But the part about love didn’t come quite as easy, when the man whom you loved was already married to someone else, and that other person just so happened to be your own sister.  

The first time you had met Eric King, you had been dangling upside down by your feet, with the only thing keeping you from falling and breaking your neck being the safety line that had come undone and wrapped around your ankle. That, and the warm hand that had wrapped around your upper arm in the spur of the moment; a foreign touch, but welcome, nonetheless. 

An embarrassing first encounter, no doubt, but after he’d successfully helped you down from the climbing wall and given the staff of the climbing club a piece of his mind about the faulty harness you had been strapped into, he wasted no time in assuring you that you had caused him no trouble, that he was more than happy to help, and even happier to make your acquaintance. 

While you had been a blushing mess, trying to regain your composure where you stood before him, he had only laughed and asked you with an amused smile, “are you okay?” 

That was the moment you had known you were done for, when he smiled at you so wide that the corner of his eyes crinkled, and he so effortlessly made you laugh, the two of you clicking so quickly, and so easily, that it felt as if you’d been made for each other. 

But as is known to most people, life didn’t work with that. Happiness and success didn’t come that easily, with that little struggle, and for you, the struggle came in the form of your sister. 

All your life, you had been second. The second one born, and the second one in every other, thinkable aspect. Your sister, Rachel, as nature would have it, was always first, always winning, and always getting what she wanted, even if you had seen and wanted it before her.  

Rachel beat you at everything in life, including the game for Eric’s heart. 

You didn’t think anything could’ve prepared you for the pain and heartbreak of having to watch the man you loved marry and find happiness with someone else; your sister, no less. But although it pained you, you had become used to losing to her at that point. You had learnt to hide your emotions with a feigned smile and get on with your life, never letting the baggage you carried with you bring you down regardless of how heavy it was. 

You learned to live with it, and even after the accident when Rachel and Eric slowly but surely began drifting apart, you didn’t consider it a win, or an opportunity. On the contrary, you only saw it as more of a loss, because somehow… seeing the man you love hurt was worse than seeing him happy with someone else. 

And Rachel, well… She was still Rachel. She packed up and left when things got too hard and no longer fit into her life, leaving Eric to find other ways to escape the rough reality. You knew you couldn’t blame only her, though. Eric had also done his fair share to contribute to the fall of their marriage, so you stayed away from both of them to the extent that you could, to avoid having to pick sides, because if the situation called for it you knew which side you’d pick, and you weren’t sure if it’d be the right one. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever, though. Rachel was still your sister, and although not in the way you would’ve wanted, Eric was family, too. And if that wasn’t enough, you were also in the same line of work, and bound to have to get together again eventually, much sooner than you would have liked, you realized, when you were called in to assist your brother-in-law on the project he had dedicated his life to for the past year.  

The last part much to your sister’s dismay. 

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“Hello, (Y/N)…”  

It was still very early in the morning when you, after a nightlong plane ride, landed on the Caelus research base in the helicopter that you had taken from the airport.  

A chill was still lingering in the air, pinching the skin of your cheeks pink with an accompanying breeze pulling at the hairs that had escaped your bun and all and any object that had been outside overnight were still wet with droplets as the midnight frost was slowly but surely being warmed up by the glaring morning sun. 

Your brother-in-law was already been waiting for you at the time of your arrival, walking up to greet you before the harsh wind of the propellers had even disappeared. 

He stood before you, smiling.  

The mere sound of your name falling from his lips was enough to make your stomach churn. Longing and disgust were swirling around in your body, both looking to win and their perseverance nauseating you. 

You swallowed the contradictive emotions and forced out a smile. 

“Eric.” You greeted him back, and watched as he briefly glanced to the ground with the smile still wide on his face, before looking back up to once again meet your eyes.  

“It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.” He acknowledged, his voice now a bit quieter than it had been before, causing your smile to sadden. 

“Yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” You weakly uttered, continuing softly, “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch much. I’ve been… busy.” 

Liar…. 

You mentally scowled at your own inner voice and pushed it to the very back of your mind.  

“It’s fine. I guess I’m just as much to blame, I’ve been busy, too.”  

Eric either didn’t realize you were lying through your teeth, or he was ignoring it to cover up the lie passing by his own lips. Had he been busy?  

Yes, but he was never too busy to make time for you. It just… didn’t feel appropriate to call you out of the blue anymore. 

Not with the emotions that he had just recently discovered, or better yet come to terms with, the existence of. He could only hope that they weren’t as obvious to you as they had become to him.  

Luckily, both of you seemed equally as oblivious, allowing you to keep assuming that you were only battling within yourselves and no more than that.  

“Right.” He cleared his throat after a moment of silence, breaking the stare that you had been sharing to avert his gaze to the ground beneath his feet.  

The atmosphere had suddenly become stale and strained, and not without reason.  

 “Well, uh, it seems that I’ve been given the honorary task of showing you to your sleeping quarters.” He continued, and with a tight grip around the strap of your duffel bag, you forced out another tight-lipped smile and nodded your head. 

“Lead the way, Coronel.”  

He did just that, holding a clothed arm out in front of him to show the direction you were going to go before taking the lead with you close behind.  

You took a right, a left, another right, and another left.  

“It’s not much but…” Eric trailed off as he pushed open the door you had come to a stop in front of. 

Your eyebrows rose as the room became visible before your eyes, and a slight chuckle left your lips at the sight.  

“It’s got a bed and a bathroom. That sure beats sleeping in a tent on a rocky mountain with four layers of clothing and nothing but a hole in the snow to pee in.”  

His face pulled into an amused smile at your words.   

“I can’t wait to hear about that experience.” He chuckled. “Later tonight, over dinner? I’ll cook.” 

Your eyes broke away from the room in front of you, your gaze instead moving up to meet his. Your stomach fluttered as you came to discover how much closer to you he was than you’d initially thought. 

 “I’ll cook. You already have more than enough on your plate, no pun intended, and you deserve a break.”  

You pushed the nauseating feeling to the back of your mind and locked it away, plastering on a playful smile as you answered. 

He chuckled amusedly. “There’s no use in arguing with you, is there?” He thought out loud, and you instantly shook your head.  

“No. No, it’s not. I’m cooking and that’s the end of it.” You said, and then pushed yourself past him and inside the room.  

All he did was chuckle and shake his head once more, and after a short goodbye left you alone to get settled, heading off to get on with his workday. 

Come to find out as the day went by, it was just as hard as one might think to whip together a five-star meal when all the produce you had at hand either came in a tin can, or an air-compressed, vacuum-sealed package. There were certainly advantages and disadvantages with living at a military base, and the food available was, more often than not, that of the latter. 

But it still seemed to have been a big enough hit, as both your plates had been cleaned not only one time, but two. And after one too many glasses and bottles of cheap wine and even cheaper beer, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between good or bad, anyway, the light buzz making both of you forget about the fact that you’d had no fresh vegetables or herbs available. 

“Thank you, for making dinner.” Eric said as he pushed his plate away from him.  

You did the same and offered him a small smile. “I hardly think that this classifies as a proper dinner, but you’re welcome.” 

“Well, at least you know how to season it correctly.” He chuckled back, and you shrugged your shoulders. 

“It’s Bolognese and, like, half the ingredients are unavailable out here, so it’s a pretty easy task to just mix together the little that you have.”  

“Not as easy as you make it look.” He raised the beer bottle in his hand to his lips, to cover up a sheepish snicker. “It comes out tasting different every time I attempt making it and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”  

He took a swig of the beer, and you shook your head with amusement.  

“Men rarely do.” You joked, causing him to laugh. 

“I can’t argue with you there.” He replied. “Partly because it’s true, but also because I learned very early into our acquaintance that it’s not a fight that I’ll win. Not with you, nor with your sister.”  

His words caused you to grin.  

“Good. Know your place.” You played, lightly kicking his leg underneath the table and giving him a teasing smirk.    

He averted his gaze to the floor as he chuckled, and then turned slightly in his seat to stretch out one of his legs. His arm found its way around the back of the chair, and you watched him closely as he tapped a finger on the beer bottle while watching his own foot move on the floor. 

“How’s the leg?” The question slipped out before you had even registered it, and caused an instant sigh to escape through his nose.  

“Could be better, could be worse.” He took another sip of his beer. “Got a new prosthesis two weeks ago and it’s taken some getting used to.”  

For extra emphasis, he raised his outstretched right leg. As he did so, you caught a brief glimpse of flashy metal underneath the pantleg that was covering it. 

The mere sight of it was enough to tug on your heartstrings.  

“Does it hurt?” You asked, and he shrugged.  

“A little. But less and less every day.” He took another sip.  

“Good. That’s good.” You nodded. “How’s everything else? How are things with… Rachel?” 

You loved your sister, but whenever you talked about her with Eric, her name always tasted bitter on your tongue. And still, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, for reasons that were more selfish than you wanted to admit.  

The name of your sister caused him his own fair share of discomfort, as well, that much was obvious judging by the way he straightened in his seat and started moving his foot at a more rapid pace. 

He cleared his throat. 

“They’re fine. How was Cerro Torre?” He quickly continued before you got the chance to question him further, and finally turned back to look at you.  

“Changing the topic on me, are you, Coronal?” You raised your glass to your lips and took the smallest of sips while peering up at him over the edge. 

His eyebrows shot up and his head shook. 

“I want to know what it was like. So, please, enlighten me.” He offered you a smile that was very visibly forced, so you dropped it, clearing your mind of the previous topic and letting it flood with memories of the new one. 

“Well, it was…” You searched your mind for the right words, having to fight back the smile that threatened to break out over your entire face. You tried finding words that would do the experience in question justice, but you couldn’t, and ended up just shaking your head with a breathy laugh.  

“Cold, and challenging.” You finally settled.  

Eric wasn’t very picky, luckily for you, and took whatever you could offer, responding with a more sincere smile.  

“So… Good?” He raised his eyebrows and gazed at you expectantly.  

Your subconscious immediately sent a flurry of butterflies straight through your stomach at the fact that he knew you so well; that he was able to recognize how much you detested the heat, and how good you felt from accomplishing something challenging.  

While someone, anyone, else would have taken your words of description as something negative, he knew different, and at that, you couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. 

“It was great. Amazing. The best thing I’ve ever done. I don’t think I’ll ever experience anything like it again.” You replied in a single breath.  

The sudden increase of enthusiasm caused his lips to stretch into a smile equally as wide as your own.  

If only you had been looking at him right then, you would have caught the twinkle of pure adoration in his eyes.  

“Did you make it all the way to the top?” He threw his arm back over the back of the chair and spread himself out more in his seat, subconsciously becoming more comfortable again now that the topic had been changed. 

“I sure did. If you’d believe it.” You chuckled, and he chuckled with you.  

“I don’t know, after how we met…” He slowly shook his head, and you swiftly delivered another kick to his leg in response.  

“Oh, shut up, it was my first climbing class. And it wasn’t my fault to begin with, anyway. The harness broke.” 

“Excuses, excuses.” 

“Fuck off.” You shook your head at his teasing, but kept smiling through it all.  

Eric burst into a boasting laugh at your words.  

“Oh, wow!” He amusedly exclaimed. “Those Chileans really had a bad influence on you, huh? What, you’re a sailor now?” 

He smirked at you, and your lips trembled as you tried to contain your smile. 

“Are you done?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m done.” He confirmed with another chuckle, and then continued in a lower and calmer voice, “I’m glad you had a good time. You deserved a break.”  

His smile was soft, as was the look that he was giving you. You matched his expression and slightly tilted your head. 

“So do you, Eric. How long has it been since you took some time off?” You asked.   

“I’ll take some time off when I have time to do so.” He simply replied, and you sighed.  

“You’ll never have time if you don’t make time, though.” You pointed out. “You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep going at this rate, and that’s not going to benefit anyone, least of all you.” 

“I’m fine.” His smile became strained again, and yours disappeared completely.  

“You’re not fine, and it’s okay not to be. But you can’t bottle it all up inside.” You shrugged. “I’m just saying. My sister might’ve led you to believe otherwise but letting it out every once in a while isn’t the end of the world. You don’t have to be so… stoic, all the time. Staying in touch with your emotions isn’t a sign of weakness.”  

In that moment, Eric felt grateful for your habit of looking away while you spoke about something you felt deeply about, or else you would’ve caught him in the act of dumbfoundedly staring at you while you talked, seen how his mind slipped away to forbidden territory for the shortest of seconds, and how his eyes trailed from yours and down to your moving lips... 

But by the time you were reaching the end of your monologue of support and turned your gaze back to him, he had already shaken himself out of it, and once your eyes met his, a smile crept onto his lips like it hadn’t even happened to begin with.  

 “You really are nothing like your sister, you know that?” He asked you once it became his turn to speak. 

It was at that moment that you became painfully aware of his heavy stare, said stare almost instantly warming up your cheeks and painting them pink.  

“I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.” You chuckled sheepishly, and stared into your glass as you brought it back to your lips.  

“It’s… not bad.” He lowly replied, his voice bringing your eyes back to him.  

You smiled at him and hummed, and after holding each other’s gaze for another moment, he averted his gaze to the bottle in his hand with a breathy chuckle. 

“You’re doing that thing again.” He said, and you raised a curious eyebrow.  

“What?” You asked. 

“Looking at me like you’re trying to pick my brain apart and make sense of the pieces.” He stated, as if he, himself, hadn’t been doing the exact same thing to you just a few seconds earlier.  

Luckily for him, you seemed just as oblivious as he wanted you to be.  

“What? I don’t do that!” You exclaimed with a laugh. 

The sound caused his stomach to tighten. He did what he always did, and ignored it, pretended like nothing was going on.  

“You do.” He insisted. “You squint your eyes, tilt your head, and space off. It’s…” 

He trailed off and you quirked a brow, a playful smile playing on your lips.  

“What? Do I make you nervous?” You joked, and he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I just… don’t see how you could ever make sense of something I can’t even make sense of, myself.”  

“That’s because you deny yourself of acknowledging things, in the first place.” You pointed out, tilting your glass in his direction before bringing it to your lips for another drink.  

The mood took another shift, and brought a sight from Eric’s nose. “I promise you that I’m fine.” He insisted, and you stared at him, eyes squinting while you swirled your wine around in your glass and let it warm up in your mouth for another moment before you swallowed. 

“Alright.” You eventually gave in and slouched in your chair, averting your gaze to the table in front of you. “Well, you know where to find me when you’ve stopped denying yourself the entire spectrum of human emotion, but for now…” 

You put your glass down at the table and pushed your plate further in Eric’s direction, continuing, “these dishes aren’t going to wash themselves. Chip chop, up you go, get to work.” 

Eric shook his head but did as he was told, following your lead in putting down his drink and then proceeding to stand up and follow your orders. 

You went back to your room not long after helping Eric clean up after dinner, wasting no time in getting ready for bed to wake up energized and work-ready the next morning. 

You fell asleep fairly quickly, honestly just grateful to have a bed to sleep in after recently having spent several nights sleeping in a tent while rock climbing in Chile. The bed was hard and uncomfortable as hell, but it sure beat laying on the ground.  

Sadly, however, you hadn’t didn’t get to sleep for very long before the sound of your phone woke you up. Of course, you had forgotten to turn off the sound the only night you had a good chance of getting some decent rest. 

But there wasn’t much you could do at that point. The harm had already been done, a light sleeper as you were, you were already awake. 

“Eric?” You murmured into the phone as you answered the incoming call, slowly pulling yourself out of bed to sit on the edge.  

You heard some static through the phone, before the sound of Eric’s voice talking back to you came over the line. 

“Hey, I’m sorry for waking you up so late, I-“ 

“No, it’s fine. I was awake, anyway.” You interrupted him with a lie, and silently cursed yourself for how quickly you had answered. 

He didn’t seem to pick up on it, though, luckily, as he immediately continued on to ask, “Can you come over?”  

Said and done, you stood up from your bed the second the call had ended. You headed into the bathroom where you proceeded to splash your face with some cold water, before moving on to put on your shoes and a sweater. 

As you unlocked and opened your door and headed outside, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, you mentally scowled at yourself for being so easy, for being so willing to be at his beck and call even after the hundreds of times you had promised yourself not to be. 

But what could you do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing, as you were entering Eric’s sleeping quarters no more than two minutes later, calling out for him into the dark of the night. 

“Eric?” 

For a moment, there was no answer, and then... 

“In here.” His voice faintly called back to you from somewhere inside.  

You headed in the direction of his voice and soon found yourself stepping back into the kitchen area in which you’d had dinner not too long ago. Eric was seated by the table on the same chair as earlier that night, holding a beer bottle in his hand, just like you had left him two hours erarlier. 

Hadn’t it been for the dozen-or-so manila folders spread out across the table in what you could only describe as an utter and complete mess, you honestly might have thought he hadn’t moved at all, but the folders hadn’t been there when you left, and so you knew that he must have moved at least once.  

On the front of the folders that were closed, you could clearly make out the word “CAELUS”, printed in big, black letters, and- 

“Have you heard from Rachel lately?” Eric asked you before you could think any further or directly question him about the folders. 

Looking up from the table to instead meet his gaze, you found that there was no gaze to meet. He hadn’t looked up at you as he spoke, instead just staring absentmindedly at the bottle in his hand while his finger scratched at the corner of the label.  

You couldn’t deny that you were confused. When you had tried bringing up the topic of your sister and their relationship during dinner, he had shot you right back down. It made you wonder what could have changed, but you trusted him enough to let you know if it was something you needed to be let in on, and dropped it to reply, 

“I spoke to her a few days ago. Why?”  

His fingers tapped on the bottle and with his other hand, you spotted, he began rubbing over the indented skin of his ring finger. 

Only then, after another moment of silence, did he break out of his seemingly drunken trance, putting the bottle down and turning his attention back to the papers in front of him.  

“How is she?” 

You slowly began moving in his direction, pulling out a chair for yourself and sitting down in front of him.  

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You shrugged. “We barely talked. She didn’t have much time for chit chat.” 

“So, nothing out of the ordinary...” His voice held a bitter hint to it.  

“Is it ever with Rachel?” You snorted, and at that, he cracked the smallest and briefest of smiles.  

“No, I suppose not.” 

His solemn, strange mood returned almost as soon as it had gone. You analysed his expression and his stance. It didn’t take much for you to pick up on his stress with the way he hadn’t been able to focus on the papers in front of him for more than a few seconds.  

“I take it you still aren’t on very good terms, then.” You carefully acknowledged and waited for his reaction.  

All he did was offer you a strained smile in return, before looking back down at his hand where it rested on the table.  

You couldn’t hold back the sigh that slipped past your lips. 

“You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, Eric. Come on, penny for your thoughts?” You moved your chair closed to his and, reaching out, put your hand atop his.  

His eyes automatically flickered down to his thigh where your hand now laid on top of his. He was becoming all too aware of your touch and hurried to turn his gaze back up, trying to focus on your soft stare and gentle smile, instead.  

He looked at you for another moment, remaining silent, and then… 

“We fought, a lot, those last few months, and… and I was the cause of most of them.” 

He averted his gaze to the floor. 

“I didn’t just lose my leg in that car crash, (Y/N). I lost myself. And you know what Rachel’s like, she’s so… brash and abrasive. Nothing I did seemed good enough, I wasn’t trying hard enough, I was coping in all the wrong ways, putting too much time into the wrong things, into my work. I know I played just as big a part in how things ended up, and I know that it doesn’t justify my actions, but she made me feel weak. I felt like a lesser man and I didn’t know how to deal with it. She wanted me to focus less on my work, but I didn’t know who I was without it, anymore. She wanted me to do things differently, but I didn’t know how to, and I’d rather push her away than figure it out and abandon my work. What kind of person does that make me?” 

The question that he ended with seemed to be more so directed to himself than it was you, but you still took it as an invitation to reply.  

“Look… Rachel has always had a habit of demanding more from people than they’re able or should be expected to give. She wants things to go quickly, no hiccups, no uncertainties, and no detours. A straight line, from point A, to point B, suck it up, get over it, the end. She has her reasons for being the way she is. She’s been through a lot and it’s made her stronger, but it’s also left her less tolerable of emotional heat and with an insatiable need to be in control. Losing that control can make her lose track of everything and, oftentimes, she ends up taking it out on those around her. It’s not her fault, but it’s not yours either. A marriage contains of two people, not just one, and you can’t put all of the blame on yourself any more than she can herself.” 

You leaned a bit closer and searched his face in an attempt to catch his gaze. He felt your stare burn into the side of his face and slowly turned back to look at you. Once you knew you had his attention, you continued,  

“You’re not a bad person for needing more time to recover from a traumatic experience. You’re not a bad person for having your own way to cope and not being able to cope in other ways suggested or ways preferred by other people. You’ve made mistakes, so what? Who hasn’t? I don’t know a single person who would figure it all out overnight without at least some amount of struggle.” 

You held each other’s stares for a moment. Eric could feel his heart beating in his chest, he heard the pulse of it in his ears, and prayed that you couldn’t hear it, too. At this point, your thumb had started to rub slow circles over the back of his hand. 

He was sure that it was just subconscious, it had to be, but regardless, it was making him lose control, and making him all too aware of every single detail of your current situation. 

With all the circumstances in mind, he battled his emotions and carefully pulled his hand away from underneath yours, instead bringing it up to his face to bury his hands in his palms. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dropped all of this on you. It’s not your burden to bear, and… you’re Rachel’s sister, and I’m her husband.” He mumbled out of guilt. 

To make up for the lost warmth of his hand, you tucked your own underneath your thigh where you sat.  

Your heart thumped roughly in your chest and your eyes fell to the floor, eyebrows creasing together as you got lost in thought. 

“You’re not just my sister’s husband to me.”  

The statement held more meaning than he’d ever be able to imagine.  

“She might be my sister, but you and I knew each other before the two of you met and right now, all this is, is one friend lending an ear to another. I’m not your wife’s sister, and you’re not my sister’s husband.” 

Your heart broke a little more at every mention of your sister. In any other case, it was easy enough to ignore the feeling and go on with the conversation and your life as normal, but now, with the atmosphere that you were currently basking in, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the heartbreak. 

And that, more than anything, was making you feel horrible, because you knew that this wasn’t about you, and that he needed your support. So you continued, all while watching him from the side, 

“For what it’s worth, you’re not weak or any lesser of a man just because you’re struggling to find a stable coping mechanism. Your life was completely turned around by that accident and no one can be expected to just go back to their old ways after that. You’re not perfect, but neither is Rachel, neither am I, or anyone. Your good deeds and your good qualities outweigh the bad ones and, at the end of the day, that’s what determines a person’s worth. You’re a good person, a good man, and Rachel knows that. Just... give it some time, and things will work out for the two of you if they’re meant to be.” 

Eric’s muscles automatically tensed when hearing you speak the last sentence.  

That was just the thing, he thought to himself.  

After all the time he and Rachel had spent apart and the way they had ended things, he’d really gotten to realize how different they and the things that they wanted out of life were.  

After everything that had happened, as well as coming to that conclusion, he didn’t know if he even wanted it to work out anymore. 

And with you sitting right there beside him after having gotten up and come to his room in the middle of the night without any objections or questions, and your presence basking him in the warmth of all that you were, all the way from your physical form and words of comfort to your mere mentality and way of looking at things, he found it even harder to make sense of what it was that he actually, truly, wanted.  

He raised his gaze from the floor to meet your already-waiting stare, feeling his mind drift away the second his eyes met yours. And that mind fog was the only explanation, the only excuse, that he deemed acceptable for what he did next. 

His lips pressed against yours before you’d even had the chance to register that he was leaning towards you, and much to your own surprise, your hand instinctively flew to his chest to push him away. 

Your eyes blew wide with confusion, while his squeezed shut with regret. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me.” Eric was one his feet the next second, wasting no time in putting as much distance between the two of you as he possibly could by walking over to the kitchen sink.  

“No, no, it’s fine.” You cleared your throat and followed his example, standing up and averting your gaze. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.” You added, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweater.  

“Yeah.” He agreed from where he was leaned over the sink, and you nodded to yourself and let out a breath.  

“Okay, good. Goodnight.” You said and turned around.  

“Goodn-“ He started saying back, but you were out the door before you were able to hear the full word, his voice being cut off by the sound of his door slamming shut behind you. 

You practically ran back to your own quarters and the second you had closed the front door behind you, your emotions caught up with you.  

Your head started spinning, the inside of your throat felt thick as nausea overtook you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath.  

“Shit, shit, shit.” You cursed under your breath as you gripped at your hair.  

You might have escaped Eric and the situation that you had been in, but the butterflies that the taste of his lips and just the general feeling of being in his presence had left in your stomach still lingered.  

On one hand, they did not mix well with the nausea and feeling of betrayal, but on the other hand… you had never experienced something quite as euphoric before in the entirety of your life.  

You stood there trying to make sense of how something so wrong could feel so good, but no matter how hard you thought, you just couldn’t seem to figure it out; the only conclusion you could reach was that you were, simply, a horrible fucking person. At least that’s what you felt like.  

And yet, as three quick and sharp knocks rapped on the wooden door against which you were still leaning, you didn’t think twice before turning around to open it, despite very well knowing who was waiting on the other side, and what was sure to follow.  

Eric’s lips were back against your own the second you had become revealed to each other, and this time you did nothing to stop him, instead circling your arms around his neck and grasping at his hair as you let him back you into your room. 

The door slammed shut behind him and the two of you continued moving in the direction of your mutual destination, breathing becoming heavy and ragged as you kissed and grabbed at everything you could get your hands on. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed before you knew it and, once again, you did nothing to stop what was happening when the two of you fell together onto the bed. 

He laid on top of you with one hand supporting his weight by the side of your face, and the other moving up underneath your sweater.  

“This is wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.” You heard your own voice whisper into the kiss, all while your own hands worked on the top buttons of his shirt. 

“I know.” He murmured back, but neither of you made any move to stop what you were doing, both your actions contradicting your words as you sinned into the night.