They walked into the apartment, and it greeted them with warmth and stillness. The entryway opened directly into a wide living room. It's spacious, simple, all clean lines and soft colors. A low cream sofa sat beneath a large window, pale curtains drifting slightly from the night breeze slipping in through the balcony door. The faint scent of vanilla hung in the air, mixed with the cool city wind.
To the left the kitchen glowed faintly with the reflection of the streetlights on the sleek countertops, chrome appliances, and a half finished bottle of wine on the counter from some earlier evening. To the right, a short hallway led to two doors… hers and her roommate's. Each one neatly marked by framed photos hanging nearby.
Eli reached for the switch by the wall and turned on a single light. A warm amber glow spread across the room, softening every corner.
"Let's get you to bed," he said quietly.
She nodded, with her heavy eyes. He placed a steady hand near her arm, guiding as they moved past the living room toward her door. Her steps were slow, uncertain, the quiet rhythm of her heels dull against the hardwood floor.
Eli helped her toward her room, the sound of the city outside began to fade completely, leaving only the low hum of the lights and the soft sound of her breathing beside him.
Eli helped her into the bedroom, the dim amber light following them from the hall. The room smelled faintly of lavender and soft, lived-in and warm.
"Here we go," he murmured, easing her toward the bed. Abby sank down, her body heavy with exhaustion, the night's chaos finally giving way to stillness. Eli crouched, carefully slipping off her shoes one by one, setting them neatly beside the bed.
She mumbled something incoherent, her eyes half open, then caught his sleeve weekly as he started to stand.
"Stay," she whispered. "Just… for a few minutes. Please.
He hesitated. His expression softened, for a moment. Concern flickering across his face… then he nodded.
"Alright. Just a few minutes," he said.
He sat in the armchair by her bedside, resting his head back against the cushion. The room was quiet except for her slow breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Before long, his own eyes drifted shut.
3a.m, Abby woke up, the room was wrapped in darkness, Her head ached dully and her mouth was dry. She sat up, blinking in confusion, then stumbled toward the bathroom down the hall.
When she returned, barely awake, she took off all her clothes instinctively, unaware that Eli had slept off on her armchair by her bed. She crawled back into bed. Sinking into the warmth of the sheets. Sleep came over her again almost immediately, pulling her under.
At dawn, sunlight crept through the curtains in long, pale stripes. Eli stirred, his neck from where he'd fallen asleep. He turned slightly, disoriented, realizing he was still in her room.
He saw her on the bed fast asleep and naked. The sight caught him off guard for a moment. He stared at her… not creepily but in admiration, like he studied her body for a moment.
Abby possessed the best kind of features God could bless any woman with. Her snatched waist that goes in nicely from a front, sides and back view with a flat stomach and nice wide hips. Her breasts were a perfect size that would fit perfectly in her C-cup bra. Her butt complimented her hips nicely… soft and voluminous.
He smiled, snapping back to his reality. He stood carefully, not wanting to wake her up, and reached for the blanket at the foot of the bed. With a soft motion, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking it in just enough to keep her warm.
Eli gathered all his things then he noticed the sticky notes and pen on her bedside table, the kind used for quick thoughts.
He hesitated, then picked up the pen and wrote neatly on a small sticky note:
"Hey, it's Eli Sinclair. I helped you home last night from the club. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Here is my number: (917) 555-2242
Text or call when you're up; I'd really love to see you again, maybe meet properly
He stuck the note to the lamp by her bed, careful not to let the paper rustle too loudly, then straightened his jacket and moved for the door.
As he stepped into the hallways, he eased the door shut behind him… quietly, almost respectfully, he nearly collided with someone coming in.
A woman stood there, holding her keys, frozen mid step. Eli immediately lifted his hands up a little. She looked up at him confused with so many questions running through her mind.
"Oh… sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically, his British accent soft but firm. "I was just leaving. You must be her roommate… I'm Eli," he brings his right hand out for a shake. Clara remained still, her brows shot up, staring at him as he moved. He awkwardly put his hand down and said, "Your friend… she… uhm…she's fine… nice to meet you…I got to go." He rushed off without waiting for her to respond.
Clara stood at the doorway, eyes narrowing as she watched him go, still trying to make sense of who the guy was… a tall stranger, too well-dressed to be casual, walking out of their apartment at dawn.
As soon as the echoes of his footsteps faded, she turned sharply and went inside. The apartment was still, warm with morning light, everything seemingly untouched except for Abby's door, slightly ajar.
Clara's pulse quickened. She pushed the door open, scanning the room… the half-empty glass of water on her nightstand, the faint smell of alcohol and men's cologne, and Abby still asleep naked under the covers. Her expression hardened; her jaw set.
"What the fuck happened, Abby?" she said with a raised voice.