11. Mochaccino

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mochaccino

MY HEAD POUNDED and my eyes felt glued together. I groaned, turning and bringing my hands up to rub at my eyes. 

My eyelids fluttered open and, for a moment, I felt disoriented. I sat in a large room with bare walls and a large bed that I didn't recognise. I blinked, confused, until my eyes landed on the tuft of brown hair at the edge of the mattress.

Then, the events of last night came flooding back. 

Flashes of me hyperventilating and crying ripped through my mind – images of Isaac hugging me and tucking me into the bed.

My heart sank into my stomach and I bolted upright to find Isaac asleep, sitting slouched on the floor against the edge of the bed.

He had slept on the floor – he had really stayed with me all night.

His eyes remained shut, his neck tilted at an awkward angle against the mattress. His lips were slightly parted, and his chest gently rose and fell. His dark hair was tousled and fell over his brow messily. How did he manage to look so perfect sleeping on the floor?

I turned, my heart thumping, to find my phone sitting on the bedside table. I quietly slid across the covers to grab my phone. It was plugged in and charging. I smiled at the thought of Isaac charging it for me and moved to turn my phone on.

It came to life and immediately the screen was filled with notifications – texts and missed calls from Riley and William. I glanced at the time – seven in the morning – and sighed. I'd fallen asleep all through the night and forgotten all about Riley.

I tapped onto our group chat, finding hundreds of texts ranging from 'Oh my Gosh, Arthur Andrews asked me out on a date!' to 'Aspen, wya?' to 'ASPEN WHERE ARE YOU'.

Guilt washed over me, and I quickly shot them back a text message explaining I was safe, I was sorry, and I'd call them back later.

I swallowed, my mouth feeling extremely dry and my head pounding harder from the bright sunlight flooding the room. I had slept all night, yet I felt exhausted. My body was sore and sluggish, and my throat felt dry. I opened my phone camera and switched it to the front facing camera, quickly cringing at my face.

My eyes were swollen and red. All of my mascara had been rubbed off, leaving dark smudges beneath my eyes. My hair had frizzed on end and the elegant waves had turned into knots.

With a sigh, I turned my phone off, sick of seeing my terrible reflection. I spotted my sneakers across the room beside the door. I had to leave. My mom would be home from her night shift soon. Unplugging my phone, I carefully pulled the sheets off me, trying to keep quiet and not wake Isaac.

I turned, quietly sliding off the bed, when the frame suddenly creaked loudly. I froze, my eyes darting to Isaac as he stirred.

He turned, his eyes fluttering open and his neck craning to face me.

"Aspen?" His voice was so croaky, I thought my heart would explode out of my chest. He was so cute.

"Morning," I squeaked.

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "What time is it?"

Before I could answer, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. His brow furrowed and he turned back to face me.

"How are you feeling, Aspen?"

My heart fluttered at the sound of my name – my real name – on his croaky morning voice. His eyes squinted through the morning light as he scanned me. I clung to the bed sheets.

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