•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•

My mouth went dry. "Oh."

Oh no.

She moved closer, slowly, her hips swaying as she approached. The nervous smile on her face stirred something in my stomach because she was putting herself out there, vulnerable and ready.

"Is this okay?" she asked softly, stopping right in front of me.

Before I could answer, she climbed onto my lap, straddling me. Her thighs pressed warmly against mine as she settled in.

Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt as she leaned in close. I could feel her warmth through the lace, the softness of her breasts pressing against me with every breath.

"We’ve been together for over a month," she whispered, her voice sultry. "You’ve been such a gentleman... never pushing, never rushing me for sex like other guys. I really appreciate that."

Her lips brushed my ear. "But I want you, Oliver. I’ve wanted you for so long."

And then she kissed me.

It started soft, her warm lips on mine, her tongue teasing for a way in. When I parted my lips, the kiss deepened.

Fuck...what do I do now?

I shouldn’t have accepted her invite to come up to her dorm room...I should have just come up some random excuse and made a fucking run for it.

She moaned softly into my mouth, swaying against me in a slow, sensual rhythm. One hand tangled in my hair, while the other slipped under my shirt, her pink acrylic nails grazing my skin.

I tried to respond, I really did...I was her boyfriend after all. She was stunning, eager, and obviously turned on by me of all people...her body warm and soft against mine, her breath coming quicker as she rocked against me.

For a few seconds, I focused on her, the way her body pressed against me and her tongue danced with mine, the little sounds she made.

But it wasn’t working.

All I could think about was Damien.

The memory of his kiss on the kiss cam, possessive and hungry, claiming. The feel of his body wrapped around mine that morning, warm and solid. The low, rough sound of his voice when he teased me.

The way he looked at me.

This... this felt wrong. Like I was betraying something I had no right to betray.

No...no I couldn’t do this.

I gently pushed her back, hands on her shoulders, breathing heavily.

"Melanie... wait. I’m sorry."

Then another flash of memory hit me fast, waking up tangled under a shared blanket, his arm across my waist, that specific sense of safety that came with that weight, the warmth that lingered with me throughout the days like something I’d borrowed but never returned.

Damien laughing in the kitchen over my burnt ramen. Damien snatching bacon off my plate like he owned the place. Damien pulling me closer in his sleep without waking, a small gesture that meant nothing and yet everything.

Damien... Damien... Damien.

My chest tightened. Panic surged through me, flooding everything at once.

This was wrong...not Melanie—but me! Something was off with me. Why couldn’t I focus on the person right in front of me, kissing me, offering me something real and vulnerable?

Why did it feel like I was going through the motions rather than actually living in the moment? And why did some small part of me feel like I was cheating?

Cheating on who? Damien wasn’t my boyfriend. And I had a sexy ass girlfriend who actually liked me for crying out loud!

Yet, the feeling lingered, strong, uncomfortable, and impossible to shake off.

I pulled back, my breath uneven, not even realizing I’d done it until I was a few inches away from her.

Melanie froze. Confusion replaced her smile, dimming the warmth in her expression.

"Oliver?"

I stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze.

The silence was suffocating, heavy and immediate, filling the space the moment something went wrong, neither of us knowing just how wrong it was.

"Did...did I do something wrong?" Her voice was small.

I looked up quickly. "No! God, no, Melanie. No!"

Her face fell at the edges. "Then what happened?"

I didn’t know. Or maybe I did, and that was the real problem.

"I—" The words caught in my throat. How could I explain this? That she’d done everything right, she was wonderful and brave, sitting there being honest about her needs with me and yet none of that changed the fact that something within me felt completely wrong the moment our lips met?

"I’m... sorry," I said again.

Her shoulders slumped, not in anger, just hurt, quiet and visible. That somehow felt worse than if she’d yelled.

"I thought maybe you were just waiting for the right moment," she said, almost to herself.

The guilt hit me hard.

"I’m sorry," I said a third time, feeling pathetic and helpless, but it was true.

Eventually, I stood up. "I should go."

She nodded slowly and quietly, not looking at me, and I slipped out without saying anything else because I had nothing else to offer.

The walk back to Preston Hall felt longer than it should have. The campus was mostly dark, streetlights casting long shadows on the sidewalks, other students passing by without me noticing. My thoughts were a chaotic mess.

I’d hurt Melanie, whether I meant to or not. Whether I saw it coming or not. A part of me probably had, given how distracted I’d been and how I tried to avoid overlapping with her too often...I’d still hurt her.

Shit, I was such an asshole!

And the worst part, the part that just kept coming back, no matter how hard I tried to redirect my thoughts, was that I finally understood why.

Because the whole time she kissed me, soft and warm and meaning every second, all I could think about was someone else.

That realization hit me hard, weighing on my chest like a stone that wasn’t going anywhere. She’d been right there, beautiful, tender, and vulnerable, offering me something genuine. And every part of my attention was somewhere else entirely.

She truly deserved better than me... I should have ended things with her, but I was too afraid of hurting her.

But I ended up still hurting her in the end whether I wanted to or not.

I kept walking, the campus quiet around me, my own footsteps echoing in the night. Underneath the guilt and confusion, there was a small, terrified certainty I’d been running from for weeks, and now, I had finally run out of road.