CHAPTER 5

–ALORA EUNICE’S POV–

I still have seven months left before I finish this program. Actually, I'm working on my design portfolio that I will submit for the finals. It’s hard to juggle all the school requirements—but this is what I chose. Maybe it’s not the path everyone expects of me, but fashion designing is something I truly, deeply want.

I drifted off to sleep after sketching a few more designs. I tucked the sketchbook away, hiding that small piece of myself once again, then lay down on my soft bed.

I needed rest. Tomorrow will be another battle—more studying, more pressure. But for now, sleep was the only thing I needed and badly wanted.

"Sit," I tapped the sand beside me, offering a seat to the guy who didn't leave me alone in the middle of the dark night. As I looked up again, there was no moon nor stars in the pitch black sky. "When someone politely offers you a seat, just take a seat."

"No." 

"Just do it."

"No."

"Don't kill joy. Come. Sit."

"I said—ugh!" I pulled his hand and his butt fell on the sand. "You want?" I offered him the drink.

"No."

"Is that the only response you know? No?"

He said nothing.

"Okay. I’ll finish it alone then,” he didn’t protest and silently sat beside me. I almost finished half of the bottle when I had the courage to open up to a stranger. "I almost gave myself to him but..."

"Fear ate me. Besides..." I hiccuped. "I want to do it after the wedding," I hiccuped again. I slightly punched my chest and grabbed the bottle again to drink. I wiped my lips before talking again. "I thought everything was fine but a message or even a call… he can’t answer? It makes me worry. Is he mad? Disappointed?"

The guy didn't say anything and I don't know if he even listened to what I was saying. At least I had said what I wanted to voice out in my mind, right? I don’t know but it lessened at least a bit of a burden. 

"Stop moving or I will drop you." I was too drunk to walk so he carried me and took me to my room. I sniffed his chest, oh ghad... his scent, it's addicting.

"Do you have a girlfriend? Are you married? Hm?" I asked with a half opened eyes. "Please don't do something stupid, hm? My boyfriend will punch you, hm?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging tighter than I intended. He might actually drop me—and with my knee still sore from falling earlier, I couldn’t risk another pain.

"I'm Alora," I said, trying to ease the tension with a playful tone.

"I know," he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"Hm? You know me? But I don’t know you—sorry," I said with a teasing smirk. "Your name?" I poked his cheek with my index finger, grinning. "So I’ll know who to blame if anything bad happens to me."

Still, no response.

I gave his chest a light slap—okay, maybe not that light—and heard him let out a small groan.

"Am I your type? Sorry, I’m already taken," I added with a mischievous smile. "Don’t take advantage—"

“Shut up,” he muttered, cutting me off before pushing open the door behind me and gently depositing me onto the bed.

He was about to remove my arms around his neck but I was mesmerized by his face, especially his eyes.

"Am I... Am I dreaming, or is a Greek god really standing in front of me?" The words slipped out before I could catch them.

Without thinking, without even trying to reason with myself, I reached up and pulled his head toward mine.

"Hey—" he started to say, but my lips met his, cutting off the rest.

For a moment, the world fell silent. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like the pause between lightning and thunder. Then I moved slightly, feeling the sensation building up inside me. This is new, this feeling, I mean. 

Damn... it felt too good. Too real.

I didn’t want to stop.

I didn’t want… 

I almost jumped off the bed—too shocked to move—and unconsciously touched my lips using the tips of my cold fingers.

What was that? Was it just a dream… or something that actually happened last night?

My heart thudded against my chest, fast and unsure. Gosh… did I really kiss someone else? Not just anyone—but someone who wasn’t Oliver.

“Oh my God. No… No, no, no, no. It can't be.” I tried to calm myself, shaking my head as if that would make the memory blur. “Was that cheating?” My conscience throbbed louder than my pulse. “I hope not… I really hope not.”

"Miss Alora," a soft knock at the door, followed by the voice of one of our helpers, "Miss Alora, mayor and madam were waiting for you at the dining room."

"Uh… yeah. Thank you. I’ll just fix myself," I managed to say, my voice barely steady.

I sat for a moment longer, composing myself. Fixing my hair, smoothing out the creases in my clothes, more to calm my nerves than for appearance, before I finally stepped out of the room and made my way to the dining area, where my parents were already waiting.

Their faces lit up the moment they saw me, but my mind... it was still elsewhere.

Mom looked at me as if she's trying to send me a message through her eyes. I guess she's talking about the ring on my finger. She wants me to hide it for the meantime. We silently had our dinner not until mom started a conversation.

"By the way, your Uncle Alex invited us to his birthday party next month. He asked if you could perform a piece at the event. I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. You know how your uncle can be… he might have something to say if you don’t grant his wish. Alright, hon?"

 As if I had a choice. I just gave a small nod.

I’ve never been close with mom’s side of the family. I think Layn, Uncle Alex’s second child, is the only one I actually get along with.

"Midterm exams are just around the corner. And your competition in Spain is coming up, too. Have you started practicing your piece?"

"Yes, mom."

"Make sure you manage your time well, alright? Win that competition. Ace those exams."

"Okay."

Like a string pulled tight between duty and dreams, I nod—silent, steady—a note unplayed but already expected.

Mom received a message from her siblings. They said it was urgent. She left even though it was already late. Dad offered to drive her, but she declined, and he didn’t insist.

A moment later, I felt Dad’s gentle hand wrap around mine. He squeezed it a little as if he wanted to say something while caringly looking at me.

“Don’t forget to rest and breathe. I know your mother can be… suffocating sometimes, and I’m sorry—”

“No, Dad. It’s okay, really.”

I forced a smile, even though I was too tired to keep up with Mom’s ever-rising standards.

“You too. Don’t forget to rest. You might get sick. The town would lose its great and kind Mayor like you.” I said with a teasing tone, and it made Dad chuckle.

“You, silly one.”

+++

Our professors are nearly done with the lessons. Midterms are next week so they need to wrap things up anyway.

I had forgotten, or maybe just hoped that I wouldn't have to see Rome De Herrera again. But no matter how I try to avoid him, our paths are bound to cross. He's my substitute professor now in one of our courses ever since Prof. Saragosa went on maternity leave.

I was busy jotting down notes as he proceeded with the lecture. To be honest, it wasn’t necessary. His discussions are easy to follow. I just didn’t want to look at him because every time I do, my eyes end up drifting to his lips. And then I remember that one humiliating thing I did.

It’s been weeks, but every time we see each other, the memory burns anew.

"Ms. Escarra."

 "Y-Yes," I quickly cleared my throat to steady my voice. "Yes, sir?"

"Collect all the essay papers from this class and submit them to me in the faculty room. Dismissed."

He left the room, and—against my will—my eyes followed him out. Only when my classmates began crowding around to hand me their papers did I snap back to the present, his silhouette still lingering at the edge of my thoughts.