In his bed

BLAIR’S POV

My head felt like it was going to explode. I couldn't even open my eyes the pain was so intense. I reached for my blanket, noticing that it felt different. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, but noticed neither bedside table or phone were there.

My eyes suddenly jerked open.

Holy fucking shit. I was at Professor Reynolds' house.

I had a very vague memory of being in his car, but I had no idea why I ended up here.

I was dressed. Completely dressed actually. Shirt, check. Undershirt, check. Briefs, check. I even had my socks on.

Dieu merci.

I looked around, the room deadly quiet. The walls were painted navy blue, the curtains were grey. Under the bed, covering the dark hardwood flooring, was a soft beige carpet. He had a massive painting over his black bed frame. It was an abstract painting with black and white squares overlapping each other, creating a sort of disorganised chess tray.

His bed was huge and incredibly comfortable. I noticed he had left some clothes piled on one corner of his bed, as well as a towel.

I was so happy he hadn't undressed me. That feeling was shortly lived as I realised that although I had my clothes on, we might have still done something that I had no memory of.

I walked into his en-suite, the black and white marble cold against my bare feet. I slipped out of my shirt and showered. I washed my hair with his shampoo. It smelled so good and masculine I could pass out. I got out, only to discover he had an unused hotel toothbrush next to the sink. He had clearly placed it there for me to use it.

My heart fluttered with that small gesture. He thought of everything.

I changed into the clothes he had left for me, a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants. It felt like I was swimming inside his oversized garments, but I welcomed the feeling of smooth fabric against my skin. If that wasn't good enough already, the clothes had his scent all over them.

I turned the handle of his door slowly as I walked out of his room. I had no idea where to go or what to do, but I did know I had to come out sooner or later. Besides, my head was killing me, I had to do something about it, fast.

As soon as I opened the door, I could hear footsteps down the dark hall. I walked towards the sound. I was so embarrassed I wanted to hide.

Once I reached the end of the corridor, my eyes scanned his apartment. It was a big open space with a black marbled kitchen isle in the center and cabinets in an L shape around it. Close to the windows was his living room and dining table. The whole apartment had burgundy walls, with the exception of one or two which were green. The same colour as my shirt, I noted. His apartment was decorated beautifully. It was extremely masculine, sure, but it did feel cozy and inviting.

"Look who's up." Dr Reynolds said in a soft voice. He had his back turned to me, busily washing a few dishes. He was fully dressed in dark jeans and a polo.

A plate with toasts and a cup of hot chocolate were set on the isle. There were also two tablets of Advil next to the plate. I couldn't actually believe what my eyes were seeing.

"Professor Reynolds, thanks so much. I— This... This is... too kind." I sounded clumsy and agitated. My mind was also extremely foggy.

"No need to thank me. Sit down and eat before they get cold." He said, turning to look at me. I was completely stunned at how thoughtful he was being.

I looked at my professor, taking him in. His beard was unkept and his eyes looked tired.

He looked absolutely rugged.

I sat down on the stool, rubbing my temples. I was sure my face was bright red.

"I don't know what to say." I said. My voice was raspy from singing Shania Twain all night. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry for being such an inconvenience."

"Don't apologize. I remember being your age and how partying could get out of control."

"That must have been ages ago." I said, taking a bite of the toast. The butter was salty and creamy and I loved the toast. The butter was salty and creamy and I loved it.

He chuckled. "Not that long ago, I assure you." Dr Reynolds stood across from me, his hands resting on the kitchen isle.

"I'm afraid to ask but... Could you tell me what happened last night? This is so embarrassing... I don't remember anything."

He sighed. "Your friend came up to me at the bar and said you needed help. We got you out of there and I drove you home, but your flat mates weren't there. I couldn't leave you alone so I brought you here. I didn't know what else to do or who to call."

I drank the hot chocolate, the warm liquid heating me from the inside out.

"Did I... say or do anything?" I asked, my cheeks burning.

Dr Reynolds walked around the isle and took a seat next to me. "What do you mean?"

He was fucking playing with me. I could see a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. As if he didn't know what I meant.

I turned my head away from him, embarrassment engulfing me. I didn't want to be any more explicit in my questioning.

"You really want to know?" He asked when I failed to answer the first question.

"Take me out of my misery." I pleaded.

He fidgeted with the Advil tablets, pondering his words.

"You told me I was hot, but I already knew you thought that about me."

I must have made the most shocked expression by the look on his face.

I couldn't let him get the upper hand, it was stronger than me.

"Well, that wasn't that bad." Of course it was. "I was expecting to hear worse."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Like?"

I gave him a smile. I bet he was thinking I was gonna say that I found him impossibly attractive or something along those lines, but I gave him none of that.

"At least I didn't admit to committing a crime."

The corner of his lips turned upwards and he shook his head, looking at his hands.

"Just take the Advil." He said, getting up and sounding annoyed. Gotcha!