Mag-log inMiguel“Why do you want to sit at the back?” I asked, “you're worried you would jump me like you did the last time?” She blushed, definitely embarrassed by the whole thing. “Kissing you wasn't that great,” she hissed, “so no worries. I won't be doing it again.” Ouch. I was taken aback by her response. Even if she was lying, it definitely hurt to hear. Especially because there was no trace of humor in her tone, nor her demeanor. I moved closer and held her face. My hands palmed her soft features. She let out a loud gasp from the action. The no touching rule had flashed my mind as I touched her, but I hated those rules anyway. “Look at you,” I shook my head, “so needy.”She pushed my hand away, disrespected by my comment “me? Needy?” She asked. I didn’t answer, however. I just made my way to the driver’s door and got into the car. I shot my head out of the car, looking at her. “Are you not getting in?” I asked.Her definition of a response was rolling her eyes. She opened the doo
Penelope I sat in my office the next morning, the early morning sun filtering through the window casting a soft warm ray on my skin. The sun was welcome given the rains and long cold nights that had become common in Oakridge. I held a legal pad in my hand, scribbling on it with a black ball point pen. Miguel and I were going to need boundaries if our living arrangement was to continue this way. My heart raced surreptitiously every time my eyes met the bed that we had shared the night before. The bed was large enough to hold us both and yet we ended up tangled into each other. It was not ideal. I clutched my rosary with my free hand. Sharing a bed with a man as sexy as Miguel was simply inviting trouble for my soul. RULESRule One: Always knock before entering. If the door is closed, do not barge in.Rule Two: We must operate a strict bathroom schedule. I'll be in the bathroom from 6:30 to 7:00. You can use the bathroom afterwards. Rule Three: We are not to change clothes in the sa
Miguel The first thing I registered before the sun even cleared the horizon was an unfamiliar sense of rightness. It was far too right. For a few seconds of absolute bliss, I simply lay there with my eyes closed, letting myself sink into the unaccustomed warmth curled directly against my side. The world outside the window was still cast in the quiet shades of pre-dawn, and inside the room, the air was cool. But where our bodies met, there was a radiating heat that felt too natural, a magnetic pull that had been operating without my permission while we slept.Then memory rushed back like a pin popping a balloon, sharp and sudden.Penelope.I opened my eyes slowly, the reality of the situation settling heavily onto my chest. She was fast asleep, her head tucked perfectly beneath my chin in a space that felt like it had been carved out specifically for her. One of her hands was fisted tightly in the soft fabric of my grey T-shirt, anchoring her to me, and her leg had drifted over mine,
PenelopeThe morning air carried a bitter chill in the wake of the storm. The atmosphere felt heavy, thick with the damp smell of wet earth and splintered timber—a harsh but silent reminder of the long night we’d just survived. I thought back to the moment Miguel had burst into my room hours earlier. The sheer relief that washed over him after inspecting my body to make sure I was okay looked almost like a silent, desperate prayer. It was a look of profound salvation from a man I knew hadn't spoken to God in years.Later that morning, the maintenance supervisor arrived to deliver the final verdict: my room was officially a hazard zone."Good thing you packed up most of your stuff yesterday," he muttered, adjusting the fit of his hard hat. He nodded toward the belongings I had managed to drag away from the collapse, some of which were now lined up safely out in the corridor."Is any part of it salvageable?" Miguel asked. He motioned toward the section of the plaster that hadn't comple
MiguelThe aftermath of the storm left a cold streak. The atmosphere was tense with the heavy, bruised scent of petrichor and fractured wood. I remembered going to check up on Penelope. Fearing for what I may encounter, and thankfully, nothing I wouldn’t be able to live with. For a moment last night, I almost sought God again. I hadn’t done that in a very long while.The maintenance supervisor came by that morning, confirming that the room was officially unsafe for habitation. “Good thing you packed most of your things yesterday," he said, adjusting his hard hat. Referring to most of the things Penelope had moved away from that side of the room, and some outside of the room."Is any part of it salvageable?" I asked, gesturing to the remaining half of the ceiling. "Could one stay on the far side of the room while you guys patch it?" Asking for the real resident of the room- Penelope, who was standing beside me, quietly. He shook his head, completely serious. "Not a chance. The water
PenelopeThe weather forecast predicted a major storm. It was the kind of storm that made all phones in the area ring with a notification. EMERGENCY ALERT / ADVANCE WARNINGFrom: Office of Emergency Management & Civil DefenseSevere Weather Watch: Major Storm System ExpectedMeteorological data indicates a severe, high-impact storm system is currently tracking toward our area. While conditions are stable right now, this system carries a high probability of destructive winds, torrential rainfall, and flash flooding when it arrives.This notification is issued to grant all citizens ample time to prepare before conditions deteriorate.Mandatory Pre-Storm Preparations:Secure Property: Secure or bring indoors any loose outdoor objects, trash bins, or patio furniture that could become dangerous airborne projectiles in high winds.Inspect Vulnerabilities: Check your property for existing maintenance liabilities. Ensure drainage systems are clear, and reinforce any structurally weak areas,
•Miguel• “Try this.” I held up the cream-colored blouse, half amused, half annoyed she hadn’t picked it herself. Penelope wrinkled her nose. “That’s something a kindergarten teacher would wear.” I arched a brow. “You work at an orphanage, you teach the children.” “okay, fine.” She snatc
•Penelope • The bell rang three times for afternoon prayer, and I was halfway through shelving the hymns when I headed the footsteps that didn’t seem to belong to any of the children. I stayed facing the shelves. Maybe if I just kept working, whoever it was would go away. But Mother Super
•Miguel • The lounge was wrapped in low lights, and smoked coiled lazy spirals above the tables from cigars. I leaned back into the velvet-lined booth, cradling a glass Lagavulin between my fingers, Damien was holding court to my left, a brunette tucked against his side, her fake laugh
•Penelope• I ignored the tingling between my thighs all evening. It didn’t help that during mass, Father Marshall, bless his soul—suddenly looked like Dr. Miguel Ramirez from the side. Same silver hair, same calm, unreadable expression. I blinked hard, looked back down at my prayer book, and







