The following day, Adam woke up to the bars of soft sunlight filtering through his room's windows. In the light, dried sweat glistened on the carpets, wooden floor, walls, and blankets.
Even Misha, fast asleep beside him, seemed to radiate in the aftermath, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Her crumpled peach dress lay discarded in the corner, the fabric cool where it had once clung to her skin.
"The entire day... I can't believe I... we..." he muttered, covering his face with his palm, locks of hair cascading between his fingers. Her touch, her warmth—all the feelings they had discovered—still lingered on his skin, and his body reacted with the same might it had yesterday. [1]
Genuine fear slithered beneath his skin, making him shudder as he gently stored these sensations in an imaginary drawer in his mind. He couldn't spend his days indulging... even if the temptation seared through his muscles.
