4 | haunted

                                    

                                          
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The ringing of the phone shattered the peaceful slumber I had been enjoying, dragging me from the depths of sleep into a harsh reality that I wasn't in my own bed. Panic surged through me as I frantically scanned the unfamiliar room, my heart pounding against my chest like a caged bird desperate for escape.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtains, I realized I wasn't alone. Tim, the owner of the ringing phone, lay beside me, his tousled hair and peaceful expression at odds with the chaos reigning within me. With a blush burning my cheeks, I feigned sleep, hoping against hope that he wouldn't notice my wakefulness.
"Hello?" Tim's voice cut through the stillness, his tone a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Yeah, I'm up, Grey," he said, his eyes darting toward me briefly before returning to the conversation. My mind raced with questions, but I dared not interrupt Tim's call.
Tim's words pulled me from my thoughts as he confirmed my presence to the mysterious caller. "Um, yes, Lucy is here," he murmured, his gaze flickering to me once more. 
A sense of urgency tinged Tim's voice as he agreed to meet Grey, and I couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. What could be so urgent that it required our immediate attention? Tim's worried expression only served to heighten my apprehension as he hung up the phone and turned his attention back to me.
"Luce, hey, we need to wake up," Tim whispered, his hand gently brushing against my hair. I forced my eyes to open, struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep that clung stubbornly to my consciousness.
"What's going on? Why do we need to wake up?" I asked, my voice laden with grogginess and confusion. Tim's uncertainty mirrored my own, adding to the growing sense of unease that enveloped us both.
"I don't know," he admitted, his brow furrowing in concern. "But Grey said it's urgent." With a heavy sigh, I pushed myself upright, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on my shoulders. Whatever awaited us on the other side of that phone call, it was clear that our peaceful morning had come to an abrupt end.
As I attempted to extricate myself from Tim's bed, a realization struck me like a bolt of lightning—I was naked. Heat flooded my cheeks as embarrassment washed over me, and I hastily pulled the sheets tighter around my body, hoping to shield myself from Tim's gaze.
"Um, Tim," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Could you, uh, bring me my clothes?" The awkwardness hung thick in the air, tangible and suffocating, as Tim's eyes darted nervously around the room before reluctantly nodding his assent.
"Sure, yeah, of course," he muttered, his own cheeks flushing crimson as he scrambled to locate my discarded garments. I averted my gaze, willing the ground to open up and swallow me whole as Tim's hurried footsteps echoed through the room.
Moments later, he returned with my clothes in hand, his own nakedness adding another layer of awkwardness to an already uncomfortable situation. I accepted the clothing with a murmured thanks, grateful for the reprieve from the suffocating tension that threatened to engulf us both.
With a quick change of clothes, I felt marginally more composed, though the memory of our shared vulnerability lingered like a specter in the room. Silently, we made our way to Tim's car, the weight of unspoken words heavy upon us as we embarked on the journey ahead.
As Tim started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, the silence between us stretched taut, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the car's engine. Neither of us dared to broach the subject of our hook up, the memory still too raw and uncomfortable to confront head-on.
The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air as we embarked on the journey to the station, each passing mile amplifying the tension between us. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine provided a steady backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through my mind, each beat a reminder of the choices I had made and the consequences I now faced.
With a hesitant breath, I resolved to break the suffocating silence that enveloped us like a shroud. "Um, Tim," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. He glanced over at me, his expression guarded but receptive to whatever words I had to offer. "About last night..."
His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead as I struggled to find the right words to convey the tumult of emotions churning within me. "I know I have a boyfriend who loves me, and I never meant for any of this to happen," I confessed, the weight of guilt pressing down upon me like a heavy burden. "But..." I faltered, unsure of how to articulate the conflicting emotions warring within my heart.
Before I could find the words to continue, Tim's voice cut through the silence, his tone equal parts resigned and understanding. "You want to forget about it," he surmised, his words a bittersweet acknowledgment of the reality we both faced. I nodded, grateful for his understanding even as the weight of my actions bore down upon me with suffocating force.
"Yeah," I murmured, my voice barely audible above the rush of wind and the steady beat of the rain against the windshield. "But please, Tim, promise me you won't tell him," I pleaded, the fear of my boyfriend's reaction adding another layer of complexity to an already fraught situation.
"I won't, Lucy, don't worry," Tim assured me, his voice tinged with a hint of regret that mirrored my own. "Fuck, I feel terrible," I admitted, the weight of my confession hanging heavy in the air between us. "I fucking cheated on my boyfriend."
The silence that followed was deafening, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of our breaths as we grappled with the enormity of what had transpired between us. "It was a mistake," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "One that won't happen again."
Tim remained silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead as he navigated the winding streets with practiced ease. "Yeah, I agree," he finally conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's just pretend nothing happened, right?"
I nodded, grateful for the opportunity to bury the memory of our shared indiscretion beneath a facade of normalcy. The rest of the ride passed in silence, the weight of our unspoken agreement casting a pall over our otherwise uneventful journey. But as we pulled into the station parking lot, I couldn't shake the gnawing sense of unease that lingered in the pit of my stomach, a constant reminder of the choices I had made and the consequences I now faced.
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