--
EPISODE 18 — Can't Wait To See You Again
Layla's POV
The sunlight crept through the blinds in soft, golden slats, casting lines across Ethan's dorm room. My eyes fluttered open, heavy but aware, the warmth of the night still lingering on my skin. For a brief, perfect second, the world felt quiet. Safe. And then reality began to edge in.
Ethan was still beside me, sprawled across the bed with one arm draped lazily over my waist. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and I felt a faint smile tug at my lips. The night before—every touch, every kiss, every shiver of connection—still pulsed beneath my skin.
Careful not to disturb him, I shifted slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. My hand lingered on his arm, tracing the line from shoulder to forearm, memorizing him all over again. He stirred at my touch, a low hum vibrating in his chest, and I froze, heart fluttering.
"Morning," he murmured, voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened slowly, dark and molten, lingering on mine as if to make sure I was still here.
"Morning," I whispered back, voice soft, almost breathless.
We didn't speak for a long moment. The quiet was heavy but comforting, filled with the aftermath of the intimacy we'd shared. I tucked my legs under me, still pressed close, and inhaled the faint scent of him—his shampoo, his skin, the lingering warmth that clung even after hours of sleep.
"Did you… sleep at all?" he asked, voice low, teasing but gentle.
"Enough," I admitted, smirking slightly. "With you beside me, it's hard to relax."
He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. "I know exactly what you mean."
The moment lingered, sweet and unspoken, until necessity nudged us both awake. My mind flicked to the campus, classes, and my dorm. Chloe and Mia had gone out the night before, leaving me in this perfect bubble with Ethan, but now the day demanded we rejoin the world.
"Do you have to go back?" he asked quietly, hand still resting near my waist.
I hesitated, heart tugged between staying and returning to routine. "I… should. Classes. They'll probably ask where I disappeared last night."
Ethan let out a low sigh, though it wasn't frustration—it was a quiet understanding. "Stay a little longer," he murmured, voice almost pleading. "I want a few more minutes."
I leaned into him, feeling the curve of his chest beneath my cheek. "Just a few," I whispered. Time slowed as we lingered there, holding onto the warmth and quiet intimacy.
Eventually, reality pressed harder. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the coolness of the floor bite at my bare feet. Ethan rose reluctantly, leaning against the wall, watching me with an intensity that made me shiver in anticipation and guilt.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Better than okay," I admitted, smoothing my hair, trying to gather composure. "You?"
"Never better," he said simply, a small, self-satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Though I could get used to waking up like this."
I bit back a laugh, shaking my head. "Careful, or you'll get spoiled."
We dressed quietly, the room filled with the soft rustle of clothing and the occasional hum of laughter as we tried not to break the tension too abruptly. It was only after I had my shoes on that he leaned close, lowering his voice.
"Last night… I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted, fingers brushing mine fleetingly. "And about you."
I felt the warmth climb my neck. "Neither can I."
We lingered near the door, caught between lingering desire and the pull of obligations. I glanced at him, heart tight. "I should go back to my dorm," I said softly. "Chloe and Mia—"
"I know," he interrupted gently. "Just… text me later. Tell me how your morning goes."
"I will," I promised, my voice catching slightly.
Stepping into the hallway, I felt the weight of our night hanging in the quiet dorm corridors. The air smelled faintly of cleaning supplies and early morning coffee. My mind drifted back to Ethan—his hand on my waist, his lips, the way he made me feel both safe and untethered.
By the time I reached my dorm, Chloe and Mia were already back, sprawled across the common area couches, laughing over some video or story from the club. "Finally," Chloe teased, eyes glinting. "We thought you'd vanished into thin air. Did Ethan keep you hostage?"
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Something like that," I said, letting the words trail without elaborating. Some things were mine to keep.
Mia tilted her head, curious. "You okay? You look… different."
"Just tired," I said, brushing it off, though a small smile betrayed me. "Long night."
Chloe gave me a knowing look, but didn't press further. Instead, she launched into stories from the club, dragging Mia and me into laughter that felt too loud compared to the intimacy of Ethan's room.
I slipped past Chloe and Mia, letting them continue their laughter in the common area. My bed, pushed close to the window, felt like a small haven. I sank onto it, letting out a long exhale as sunlight spilled across the sheets. Classes, campus gossip, and the memory of the videos lingered at the edges of my mind, reminding me that even quiet moments carried a weight I couldn't shake.
The first video—the one taken near the fountain—still haunted me faintly. The second one had been wiped clean by Marcus with the first, leaving no trace, but I knew Ethan's father, Gregory Marshall, would not forget. One misstep, one public display… and chaos could return. I felt a subtle tension coil in my stomach at the thought.
My phone buzzed. A text from Ethan lit up the screen.
Morning. Thinking about last night.
I smiled faintly, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Me too.
He replied almost instantly.
Can't wait to see you again. Later?
I nodded to myself, heart skipping a beat. Later seemed safe, a bridge between desire and reality.
Sliding into my morning routine, I let the day move forward. A shower, breakfast in the cafeteria, exchanged greetings with familiar faces, all while my thoughts drifted to Ethan. Every glance, every whispered word, every fleeting touch replayed in vivid detail.
By mid-morning, classes demanded attention. Yet even as I focused on lectures and note-taking, the memory of his hands, his lips, and the heat of our night pressed beneath the surface, a constant pulse reminding me of what we had shared—and what was yet to come.
Between classes, I ducked into the courtyard, sunlight warm against my skin. I traced the fountain with my fingers, the scene from the first video—our night near the water—replaying in my mind. A shiver ran down my spine. The incident, the stolen moments, the intimacy, and the whispers of danger lingered all around us, invisible to the world, but palpable to us.
A buzz in my pocket. Ethan again.
Lunch? I'll meet you at the quad.
My chest fluttered. The morning had moved swiftly, yet here was a promise, a tether. Reality could wait, obligations could wait. Right now, it was us. And I knew, as I headed toward the quad, that whatever storm lay ahead— the mysterious figure, the campus, the past, and the videos—we would face it together.
Even if it meant keeping secrets, balancing desire and discretion, and navigating the perilous edges of public and private life, I was ready.
Because some connections weren't just fleeting—they were seismic.
And Ethan… he was mine.
—