When I had nowhere left to escape from the morning sun hitting my face, I pushed myself up from where I lay. When I checked the time on the phone sitting on the coffee table, a miserable groan escaped my lips.
It wasn't even ten yet! For a university student, waking up this early on a Sunday for no reason was extremely unpleasant. Especially since I'd gone to bed very late the night before. I was going to need much more than coffee to fully wake up.
Bracing myself for the inevitable, I gathered the mess on the couch first, then quietly slipped into the bedroom.
I entered my bedroom quietly and slowly moved toward my wardrobe. After grabbing a few pieces of clothing, I left the room just as quietly without even glancing at the bed. I closed the door behind me and let out a relieved breath.
Realizing how ridiculous I looked, I pouted and went into the bathroom.
I was literally sneaking into my own bedroom like a thief.
A lukewarm, almost cold shower helped me wake up quite a bit. When it was time to dry my hair, I hesitated and looked toward the door.
Would he wake up from the noise of the hairdryer?
Not that I cared about his comfort, of course. It was simply too early to deal with his annoying attitude, and I hadn't even had my first coffee. The later he woke up, the better.
Risking catching a cold, I reached for the hair mousse in front of the mirror.
I went to the living room and put together a chill music playlist. I set the volume so it could be heard from the kitchen and began preparing breakfast.
After brewing the tea and placing the breakfast items on the table, I rummaged through the cupboards again to add a few more things. I wasn't really a breakfast person, but I liked preparing big spreads occasionally on weekends.
Just as I tied my kitchen apron and picked up a knife, my phone started ringing. I answered the call and wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear. While talking to my sister, I kept preparing breakfast. While waiting for the food to cook, I called my mom and gave her a quick update too.
Once the table was ready, I hesitated.
For the sake of my sanity, I could eat alone in peace.Or I could endure a painfully annoying breakfast time with him that rivaled elementary school lunch breaks.
Of course, whenever my stupid conscience and I faced off, it always won.
I took off my apron and headed toward the bedroom. I cracked the door open slightly and called out without entering.
"Kerem? Kerem, it's morning. Wake up."
Since he didn't respond at all, he was either not a light sleeper or extremely exhausted.
"Well, suit yourself."I had done my part. I turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped halfway and let out a weary sigh.
Muttering at my own conscience, I stepped inside and approached the bed. When I noticed he wasn't wearing his T-shirt, I quickly turned my face away.
"Look at how comfortable he is! Unbelievable! Who sleeps half-naked in a stranger's house?!"
Clearing my throat awkwardly, I tried calling out again. When I got no reaction again, I turned toward him hesitantly.
Could someone really sleep this deeply?
As I approached with a mix of concern and curiosity, my gaze involuntarily slid down from his face. He was lying on his back, the blanket pushed down to his waist, fully revealing his perfectly proportioned upper body.
Lying in my bed like that, he looked so handsome and flawless that it stirred an odd sense of possessiveness.
"Oh my god, oh my god! I must be losing it! As if staring at him like a creep wasn't enough, now I'm fantasizing? Get a grip, Duru!"
Scolding myself, I gave my arm an imaginary pinch. Ouch. It was harder than intended.
I gently placed my hand on his forehead. His body temperature felt normal. Then why wasn't he waking up? Frowning, I gently shook his shoulder.
At the same moment, a hand grabbed my wrist sharply and yanked it down so fast I didn't even get the chance to make a sound. While I stared at him in shock and pain, he didn't even open his eyes.
As I tried to free my wrist and said, "Kerem, you're hurting me," his grip loosened, and he slowly opened his eyes without letting go.
"What are you doing here?"
Having this conversation while he was half-naked in my bed and I was practically in his face was incredibly awkward. Thankfully, his injury wasn't on the side closest to me.
"Should I feel lucky you didn't ask 'Who are you?'"
I continued without waiting for his reply. "I was just trying to tell you breakfast is ready. I called you a few times but you didn't hear me, so as a last resort I tried poking you awake. Aand that's when your obsession with breaking my wrist kicked in. Again! I really don't understand your insistence on injuring me…"
When I noticed he was weirdly grinning, I couldn't help myself. "What's so funny?"
His smile widened even more at that. "Good morning to you too. Quite chatty in the mornings, aren't we?"
When I sighed in exasperation and tried to pull my hand back, he didn't let go, making me frown.
"Since you've figured out I'm not some evil woman plotting your assassination, maybe you can let go of my arm. Breakfast is getting cold."
When he finally released my arm with a low, sexy chuckle, a ridiculous sense of disappointment washed over me.
Maybe he shouldn't have let go?And he didn't even laugh like a normal human, the jerk!
After mentally pinching myself a hundred times, I straightened up, fixed my clothes, and headed to the kitchen without looking at him.
I quickly poured the tea and sat down, trying to forget the awkward moment from seconds ago. Being that close to him had stirred unnecessary flutters in my stomach, and I absolutely did not want to feel that way about him.
No—I didn't want to.I couldn't want to!
He was Pandora's box to me. A box that needed to stay closed no matter what.
"Judging by the way you're glaring, that olive must've committed a major crime."
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even notice him entering the kitchen. I popped the olive I'd speared with my fork into my mouth and looked at the man sitting across from me. At least he was wearing a shirt now.
An idea struck me; I took a sip of my tea and stood up.
I went into the bedroom and rummaged through the dresser drawers, pulling out oversized, long-sleeved lounge T-shirts. After looking through them one by one, I picked the plainest and put the rest back.
When I returned to the kitchen, I handed him the shirt before continuing my breakfast.
"Take off that war relic and wear this instead."
He took the shirt from my hand, read the fangirl-themed print on it, and turned to me. "I don't think I can wear this."
"It's the only shirt I have that'll fit you. But if you insist on walking around in that bloody, ripped thing, be my guest."
He looked like he was about to object at first, but my last sentence seemed to convince him. Pouting like a kid forced to listen to his mom, he left the kitchen to change, and I couldn't help but smile at his adorable submission.
When he returned to the table a few seconds later, my smile faded and I let out a hopeless sigh.
Unfortunately, the shirt fit him perfectly, and with that so-called cute four-letter monogram on it, he ended up looking far sexier than he should have.
"Happy now?"
"It would've been better if it were bigger, but this is better than nothing."
He grinned with amusement at my grumpy confession. "What's running through that mind of yours this time, sunshine?"
"Stop messing with me and eat your breakfast."
He must've been hungry. He didn't drag it out and started eating right away.
After a quiet breakfast, while we were cleaning up the table together, his phone rang from the living room.