It Could Only be You

Episode 34: It Didn't Take Long

Dubious consent trigger warning for the beginning of this chapter.

The morning after the night before.

What a perfect morning it is; paradise is truly living true as the sun rises for another scorcher, but inside the Villa, Bobby doesn't wake to the that glorious morning sunshine.

The lights are still off, but he is very much on like someone has set him on standby. He stares up at the ceiling as the minutes tick by, his mind full of what had gone only hours before.

Feeling like it isn't too unreasonable a time to get up, Bobby scoops up his sleeping shorts that had rolled to the bottom of the couch during the early, early hours. He pulls them over himself, feeling the shame rising within him as he does so.

He gets up off the sofa without looking back at it, heading right for the bedroom. The lights are still off in there, too, so he quickly sticks his head outside to check it's daytime. Satisfied with the light streaming in, Bobby shuts the door again to not disturb the other Islander's.

It doesn't matter anyway, his empty bed is the one opposite the door, so the light coming in doesn't hit anyone. One bed along is the one he wants, where Marisol is sleeping with Rocco.

Bobby kneels between the beds, his face to Marisol's, and gently shakes her. "Mar," he whispers, not wanting to wake Rocco, too, "Marisol."

She groans and he shakes her a little more purposefully. "Marisol," he tries another time.

Her eyes open blearily. "Mmm?"

"Mar, I'm sorry," Bobby says, "I've done something stupid."

She continues to look sleepily back at him before she shuffles back in the bed, opening up the duvet so he can crawl in. Bobby does so, lying on his back with her arm draped over his chest. Before Bobby can say anything, Rocco comes up the back of Marisol, his arm stretching over Marisol and Bobby both. He moans happily in his sleep.

"What's wrong, Bobby?" Marisol says, ending on a yawn that stretches Bobby's name out for a good ten seconds. "Must be bad if you're coming to me before I've had my morning coffee."

"Yeah, it's bad." Bobby, still lying on his back, lets his eyes roll to look at Marisol. Her eyes are open and unfocused on him. "I had sex with Kitty last night."

Her jaw drops; top lip curling. "You ... did what...?"

Marisol sits up, leaning over him with a look of utter disbelief and mild disappointment.

Bobby looks back up at her like he's got nothing to say for himself. His jaw hangs open like he's grasping for anything, but nothing comes. He holds his hands out like he's desperately looking for some sort of clue.

Marisol sits with her back to the headboard, staring ahead like her whole worlds been rocked. "How did this ... why did you do...?"

Bobby's shaking his head. Rocco groans again, this time less happily. "Marisol," Rocco says, his voice thick with dreaminess, "Keep it down, would you...?" He says something else but it's lost to sleep.

Marisol sighs. "I need a coffee."

"Come on, I'll make you one and we can talk in the kitchen," Bobby says, hopping out the bed and offering Marisol a hand off. They say nothing as they make their way outside, Marisol shielding her eyes from the harsh rays of the sun by capping her hand over her glasses.

She takes a seat at the Island as Bobby goes to the kettle. "Explain yourself, McKenzie."

With his back to her, he sighs with his whole body. He fills the kettle and returns it to its port, flicking on the switch, and heading to the counter across from Marisol. He stands, leaning across it.