𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 | •Miya Atsumu

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘁𝘄𝗼

As the morning sun filtered through the thin curtain,
I groaned and rubbed my temples, hoping to alleviate the pounding headache.

"Ugh, my head,"
I muttered, cursing the hangover that plagued me after a night of excessive drinking.

Suddenly, the sound of activity in the kitchen startled me, prompting me to spring out of bed and rush to investigate.

"Is someone cooking?"
I wondered aloud, my curiosity piqued.

Relief flooded over me as I recognized , Amira, bustling about the kitchen.

The aroma of pancakes wafted through the air, stirring my appetite and drowning out the remnants of my hangover.

"Amira, did I do anything stupid last night?"
I asked sheepishly, already anticipating the worst.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," she replied, slicing strawberries with a hint of reproach in her voice.

"When I returned to our table, you were nowhere to be found. I was worried sick, you know."

I raised my hand in a feeble attempt to deflect blame.
"Sorry, I was just trying to... distract myself,"
I offered weakly, hoping she wouldn't press further.

Amira let out a sigh, her expression softening.

"No, I should be the one apologizing for not being there," she conceded, her gaze softening.

I chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nah, it's not your fault. I'm the one who—"

"Enough excuses!"
Amira interrupted, her tone playful yet firm.

"You're lucky someone was looking out for you last night. And might I add, he's quite the catch,"
she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as memories from the previous night flooded my mind.

"Oh my god," I gasped, instinctively covering my face with my hands.

Amira's laughter rang out, punctuating the awkward moment.

"Looks like someone's blushing," she teased, nudging me playfully.

"So, spill it. Who's the mystery guy?"

I hesitated, grappling with my own conflicted feelings.

"He's... nobody special, really. Probably just a typical 'fuckboy,' "
I mumbled, unable to meet Amira's gaze.

But deep down, I knew the truth. He wasn't just another fling. He was different. And despite my attempts to deny it, the realization lingered in the back of my mind.

As we sat down to enjoy our breakfast, I silently resolved to confront my feelings and confront the inevitable truth about the guy who had unexpectedly captured my attention.

»❀«

While doing my laundry, a piece of paper slipped out of the pocket of yesterday's pants. Picking it up, I found a phone number scrawled across it with a note