The next morning arrived far too soon. Sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, its brightness far too intense for Prem's throbbing head. His mouth was dry, and an unfamiliar taste lingered on his tongue. The moment he opened his eyes, a dull, pounding headache served as a reminder of why he usually avoided drinking, especially wine. It tasted too good and he usually got drunk too fast. A low groan escaped his lips as he shifted slightly. When he attempted to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, hoping the feeling would pass.

The fabric of the bedsheets felt strangely cool against his bare skin. As he shifted, the silky coverlet slid smoothly over him, its soft texture gliding over his body in a way that felt both luxurious and foreign.

Groaning softly, Prem pushed himself into a sitting position, his head pounding as the room tilted slightly with every movement. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to steady himself. Gripping the edge of the bed for support, he blinked, fighting the fog of his hangover. When he glanced back at the bed, he blinked a few more times, struggling to clear the haze clouding his mind. „What happened last night?"

He rubbed his temples as he tried to piece together the fragments of the night before. Everything was hazy, like a dream. Bits and pieces came back to him—laughter, the wine glass in his hands, the warmth of a conversation that stretched long into the night. He remembered how the words had flowed easily, how the wine had loosened him up. And Boun. Boun was there.

He could remember smelling the scent of his cologne, that deep, earthy scent. It was a strong, woody fragrance—cedar and sandalwood, sharp yet smooth, with a faint hint of something smoky like a fire long gone out. And he remembered the feeling of Boun's breath against his skin. Warm and steady. The heat of it grazing his neck, his ear. The way the air had felt thick, heavy as if every exhale carried a weight.

It had felt intimate, dangerous even—his skin prickling with the touch of warmth, the soft rush of breath against him, as though the space between them had shrunk in a way that shouldn't have felt so right. Prem couldn't help but shiver now, the memory of Boun's hot breath making his pulse quicken, a mix of longing and confusion stirring inside him.

Suddenly, a realization kicked in. This was not his room, not his bed.

A jolt of panic ran through him. His mind raced, trying to process what was happening. Trying to remember anything from last night. „How did I end up here?" Last night was a blur—laughter, drinks, a growing closeness that he couldn't fully grasp. Prem couldn't understand how a few drinks and a conversation about their past could have led to him waking up half-naked with a throbbing heartache in a bed that wasn't his own.

„Good morning," the soft, caring tone of Boun's voice cut through the fog of Prem's thoughts like a lifeline. Startled, Prem's gaze darted to the doorway, where Boun stood. He was dressed casually but impeccably in black pants and a beige button-up shirt, the first few buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone and chest. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the faint outline of a tattoo on his forearm—Prem had never noticed before. And the pair of glasses perched on his nose made him look even more like a teacher than he did back then when he actually was a teacher, Prem thought.

The rich, familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee, coming from the cup in Boun's hands, drifted into the room, filling the air with an irresistible scent and a soothing warmth. Boun's expression softened as he took in Prem's dazed state, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips. His eyes held unspoken kindness, yet there was something in them that Prem would recognize as guilt. He stepped forward slowly, careful not to overwhelm Prem, but his gaze—filled with that same unspoken kindness—never left his.

„Here," Boun said softly, his movements gentle, as he approached Prem and handed him a cup of coffee. „Thought this might help with the hangover."
„Thanks," Prem replied, trying to keep his voice steady. As he took a sip, their eyes locked, and they held each other's gaze for a moment.

„How are you feeling?" Boun asked and sat down on the bed. His voice was warm and soft. Prem's heart skipped a beat as the bed dipped beneath Boun's weight. The older man's gaze lingered a moment longer than necessary as if he were searching for any sign of discomfort from Prem. „Prem?", Boun asked again, a little more worried this time.

Prem swallowed thickly, his throat still dry from the alcohol he had consumed the night before. He couldn't bring himself to look at Boun, instead, he kept his eyes glued on his lap. His mind was racing with the fragments of memories from the night before. The wine, the closeness, the way everything had felt so... intense. A flush crept up his neck and heat was rising in his cheeks as the embarrassment settled in.

„Wh-what exactly... happened last night?" he asked, his voice trembling, barely above a whisper. His fingers nervously twisted the edge of the blanket as he tried to avoid Boun's gaze, too ashamed to look him in the eye. When Prem finally gathered the courage to look up, he saw Boun's expression soften even further. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and smiled warmly at Prem.

„Last night..." he began in a teasing voice, „It was fun. We drank wine, talked, nothing else. We were both a little drunk, and... things got a little blurry. That's all. Don't worry about that."
„I see," Prem replied, but he was still not really convinced. Did he embarrass himself in front of Boun? His former teacher? His former crush?, he thought. „And how..." he pointed at the blanket over his feet. „How did I..."
„How did you end up in my bed, you mean?"
„Well, yeah. I... I don't remember anything," he confessed, with an embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

„You had a bit too much to drink," he explained softly. „And since I was pretty smashed, too, I suggested that you would stay the night. That's it." He offered Prem a small, reassuring smile.

Prem's heart stuttered at the gentleness of Boun's words. It helped to ease the worry a little bit. Yet, the knot of embarrassment remained, and he was wondering if that was really everything that had happened last night.