Cruel heat

I woke up in the morning from the sound of a running tap, the first thing I felt was pain.

A dull ache between my thighs, my head throbbed like it had been split open. My whole body ached, tender in ways I had never felt before.

The taste of alcohol still bitter on my tongue, but it was the heat of my skin—the phantom touch—that made me stir.

I blinked against the strange ceiling above me. The room wasn’t mine. The sheets smelled unfamiliar, faintly of cologne and smoke.

My hair was a tangled mess, spilling across my face. Strands stuck to my lips, others covering half of my vision. For a moment, I couldn’t even see properly, the world still spinning. Panic spread inside me as I sat up slowly, the heavy blanket sliding off my bare shoulders.

And then it hit me. Last night. The drinks. The dancing. The boy.

My stomach twisted. when I realized I was naked. Completely naked.

I sucked in a breath, clutching the fabric to my chest as my heart crashed against my ribs.

But the memories bled back in fragments—the press of his mouth against mine, his hands exploring places no one had ever touched, the way his body pinned me, hard and relentless, as if nothing in the world could stop him. His voice, low and ragged, whispering curses into my skin as he thrust into my wet pussy.

A smile escaped my lip. My first time—lost in a haze of heat, whiskey, and his name I didn’t even know.

I would have believe it was all a dream. But the ache between my thighs said otherwise.

The echoes of last night just refused to fade. His kiss was still burning on my lips. My body still ached where he had claimed it. Honestly, a part of me wanted to sink deeper into the memory, into that reckless fire… but reality struck harder.

The bathroom door creaked. Steam curled out, and my breath caught in my lungs as I brushed my hair from my eyes.

He stepped out, a towel slung low around his hips, water dripping from his hair. His eyes went wide the second they landed on me and we both froze, like deer caught in headlights.

“Aria…” His voice cracked, disbelief spilling into the air. “Aria Nobody?.”

I blinked, the sheet clutched tighter against me. “L-Liam Brooks,” I whispered, my voice breaking with shock.

It felt unreal. Him—the golden boy, the one everyone knew, the one girls could die to have a moment with, the one who had never once looked at me with those intentions...

Now looked. But not the way I had dreamed of.

His face twisted. I watched as he paced, dragging his fingers through his damp hair, muttering curses under his breath. Anger and panic etched in every line of his expression.

“Shit… shit. No, this didn’t happen. This cannot have happened,” he muttered.

This can’t—” He continued and turned back to me. “Why was it you?”

I felt my chest tightened. “Liam…”

“Don’t—don’t say my name!” he barked, shutting the curtains with one violent pull. His voice dropped lower, trembling with rage. “No one can know. Do you hear me? No one.”

Tears stung my eyes. The cruel shift from last night’s heat to this morning’s disgust cut deeper than any insult I’d ever heard.

He stalked closer, his glare pinning me in place. “If a single word comes out of your mouth—if anyone even suspects—I swear, Aria, I’ll make you regret it for the rest of your worthless life.”

My lips trembled. The sheet shook in my hands as silent tears spilled down my face.

“Stop crying,” he snapped with voice sharp enough to slice through me. “Shut the fuck up.”

I bit down on my lip, choking back the sobs that clawed up my throat.

He grabbed his wallet, pulled out a wad of cash, and tossed it at me like I was nothing.

“Here. Take it. For your silence. Because nothing happened. Do you understand me? Nothing. Happened.” he yelled again.

His words shattered me completely, I was just so unfortunate that even my first hated me when sober.

I stared at the money, horrified. “You think I—”

“I don’t care what you think!” he barked, his face twisted in panic. “I don’t care if you hate me. I don’t care if you cry. But if anyone finds out, Aria, I swear—I’ll ruin you. You’re nothing. Nobody would believe you anyway.”

I could see the pure disgust in his eyes as I sob lightly.

My fingers refused to move, so the money fluttered onto the bed between us. His voice dropped again, almost pleading now, panic lacing every word. “Please… just keep your mouth shut before I lose it.”

I watched silently as his chest heaved, his jaw tight. He looked at me one last time, fury and fear burning in his eyes like I was his biggest mistake. “Why was it you, of all people?” he spat, Stay out of my way, Aria. Stay the hell away from me.” he added.

And then he was gone.

The door slammed, leaving me alone—naked, trembling, my body still aching with the memory of him. My first time—stolen, what had felt unforgettable, intoxicating, like a secret dream last night… had turned to shame by morning.

I curled beneath the sheets, the sting of his touch still on my skin, and the sting of his words deeper in my chest.

All I could do was cry. I wish I was invisible forever.