ARE YOU JEALOUS?

ORION.

As I slowly sat up, the bright morning sunlight piercing through the window made me wince, and I raised a hand to shield my eyes. My head throbbed with a dull ache, like a relentless drumbeat, and I couldn't recall what had led to this miserable state. I tried to piece together the events of the previous night, but my memories seemed shrouded in a thick fog.

The sound of a familiar voice cut through the haze, and I sprang up, clutching the duvet to my naked chest in a hasty attempt to cover myself. "Harro?" I asked, my voice laced with confusion. What was he doing here? How long had he been there?

Harro's calm demeanor was a stark contrast to my own disheveled state. He sat on the dresser, his hands folded across his chest, his eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity. I felt a shiver run down my spine as our gazes met.

This wasn't my bedroom or house, I realized with a start. The unfamiliar surroundings only added to my growing unease. I racked my brain, trying to recall the events of the previous night, but everything remained frustratingly out of reach.

Just how much had I drunk last night? The question echoed in my mind, but the answer remained elusive, hidden behind a veil of uncertainty.

Harro's smirk only deepened as he took in my frantic expression, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You really don't remember anything, do you?" he asked, his tone laced with a knowing quality that only added to my growing unease.

My mind racing, I blurted out the question that had been hovering on my lips, my finger wagging nervously between us. "We didn't, right?" The words tumbled out in a rush, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I awaited his response.

To my surprise, Harro's expression transformed, and he let out a soft, rumbling chuckle. His head shook gently, as if I'd just said something utterly ridiculous. The amusement dancing in his eyes only served to heighten my confusion, leaving me wondering what exactly had transpired the night before.

"My partners I take to bed have to be aware and willing. The whole drunken sex thing doesn't appeal to me. I'm sure you've already guessed this by now..." he paused as he spoke, fixing his gaze on me in a way that made me squirm and my stomach do a funny flip.

"I want you, Orion. I really do, but none of it means anything if you don't want me back or you're super drunk when it happens."

My breath caught in my throat as he finished speaking. He took his time watching me, making sure I understood exactly what he meant, and I couldn't help but follow his movements as he stood up, running his hand through his white, messy morning hair that made him even more irresistible. He smirked when he caught me staring at him, and he dragged his tongue slowly across his lips in a way that made me happy down there. I gulped.

"Also, I would need you to be sober when we sleep together, that way every inch of you will remember me" His words dripped with seductive intent as he spoke, his voice low and husky. I felt my skin prickle with awareness. His gaze roamed over me, making me feel like I was standing naked in front of him, vulnerable and exposed. I instinctively hugged the duvet closer to my body, as if it could shield me from the intensity of his stare.

The air seemed to vibrate with tension as Harro's eyes lingered on me, his expression a subtle blend of desire and restraint. Then, with a sudden movement, he gestured to a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. "Get dressed and come out, you need something for the hangover," he said, his tone practical and detached, a stark contrast to the sensual undertones of our previous exchange.

As he turned to leave, I felt a mix of relief and disappointment wash over me. The sound of the door closing behind him was like a splash of cold water, snapping me back to reality. I let out a shaky breath, my heart still racing from the encounter. With a sense of trepidation, I slowly threw off the duvet and began to get dressed, my mind reeling with questions and doubts. What happened last night? And what did Harro want from me?

As I followed the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee, my eyes couldn't help but wander in awe of the opulent surroundings. The house was a masterpiece of luxury, with lavish furnishings, intricate details, and sprawling spaces that seemed to stretch on forever. I felt like I had stepped into a fairytale, with the lavish decor and impeccable taste that seemed to permeate every inch of the large house.

I couldn't help but think that this was exactly a Harro thing to do- always going above and beyond, never settling for anything less than extraordinary. My own penthouse, while posh and well-appointed, seemed almost mundane in comparison to this grand estate. The sheer scale and extravagance of the house was a testament to Harro's flair for the dramatic, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at his predictably over-the-top taste.

As I turned a corner, I caught sight of Harro standing in the kitchen, his back to me as he expertly navigated the coffee maker. The sight of him, effortlessly at home in this grand setting, sent a flutter through my chest, and I felt a sudden surge of curiosity about what other secrets this house, and Harro himself, might hold.

I took a seat, transfixed by the sight of Harro moving with ease around the kitchen, my eyes seemed to take on a life of their own, roving over his physique with unapologetic curiosity. His movements were fluid, practiced, and effortlessly confident, like a well-rehearsed dance. Every gesture, every step, seemed to be executed with precision, as if he'd performed this routine countless times before.

My gaze lingered on his body, drinking in the sight of his toned muscles, honed to perfection through what must have been countless hours of dedicated exercise. His skin was smooth, unblemished, and inviting, like alabaster in the soft light of the kitchen.

As he reached up to retrieve something from the top cabinet, his shirt rode up, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of his toned abs. My face flushed with heat, and I felt my pulse quicken as I gazed, shamelessly, at the revealed expanse of his skin. My throat constricted, and I gulped, my mind struggling to process the sheer perfection of his physique. His body is perfect!

I snapped back to reality, my gaze jerking away from Harro's captivating physique as his voice broke through my thoughts. "Huh?" I replied dazedly, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks as I realized I'd been caught staring.

Harro's amused expression only made me feel more self-conscious, but I pushed aside my embarrassment as he spoke again. "I said check your phone, it's been buzzing forever."

I smiled sheepishly, feeling a twinge of gratitude, before picking up my phone. The screen lit up, displaying Athena's angry face, and I winced, still feeling the pain of my hangover. I shouldn't have answered the call.

"I'm sorry Tina. Something came up last night, I'll make it up to you," I said sincerely, trying to placate her before she even spoke. I felt a pang of guilt, remembering that I'd forgotten our dinner plans and gotten drunk instead. Not my finest moment.

It's obvious Athena was pissed as she spoke, her words slicing through my defenses. "An apology won't cut it, Riri," she said, using the nickname she'd given me, her tone dripping with disappointment. "You need to tell me what was so important that you stood me up. Is there someone else? Who is she?" She fired off questions like a rapid-fire machine gun, her eyes inspecting her perfectly manicured nails with an air of nonchalance.

I let out a deep sigh, feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare. Words don't work on her when she's pissed. Just as I was about to try and placate her, Harro appeared out of nowhere, dropping a cup of coffee in front of me with a gentle clink. His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he peered into my phone, and Athena's face immediately lit up with excitement.

"Oh...so it was a guy? This is even better!" she exclaimed, her voice rising to a squeal. "Why didn't you tell me? He's so cute!" she added, her eyes scanning the screen as she tried to get a better look at Harro. But he'd already moved away, leaving her to pout in disappointment.

I was taken aback by her reaction. Why was she acting like this was all perfectly normal? Wasn't she upset that I'd stood her up just a moment ago?

I tried to explain the situation to Athena, but she wasn't having it. She talked over me, her words tumbling out in a rush as she completely misinterpreted the situation. "Tina, listen to me okay? It's not like that," I attempted to interject, but she wasn't paying attention.

"Sorry I interrupted you guys' alone time. I'm not upset anymore, promise to tell me all the juicy details later okay? Carry on!" She finished her rant, and before I could correct her, she ended the call, leaving me groaning in frustration.

I rubbed my face, feeling a headache brewing. Athena thought I'd ditched her because I spent the night with Harro, and I knew she wasn't going to let it go. I sighed, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

As I looked up, I caught Harro's gaze, his eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression. I froze momentarily, unsure of how to react. His eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if searching for something, but his face gave away nothing. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with tension, as we sat there, locked in a silent understanding.

"Girlfriend of yours?" he asked, his gaze never wavering from mine.

I felt a surge of defensiveness, my response tumbling out in a rush. "It's not like that!" I exclaimed, perhaps a little too vehemently. Harro's eyebrow rose, a subtle hint of amusement dancing on his lips.

I felt a twinge of irritation, wondering why I was explaining myself to him. It wasn't his business who I dated or what my relationships were like. But somehow, I found myself elaborating, "Tina and I grew up together, I don't see her like that."

Harro's response was almost imperceptible, a soft scoffing sound that seemed to carry a world of meaning. "Tina?" he repeated under his breath, his eyes glinting with a hint of skepticism. "That didn't sound like nothing," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart skipped a beat as I processed his words. Wait, he isn't...is he? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt a sudden urge to ask him, to clarify the undercurrents that seemed to be swirling between us.

"Are you jealous?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in anticipation of his response.

I sat there, frozen in anticipation, Harro's gaze sent a shiver coursing through my veins. His eyes narrowed, piercing me with an intense gaze that seemed to bore into my very soul.

"And what if I am?" he replied, his voice low and husky, the words dripping with a possessive intensity that left me breathless.

The air seemed to thicken, heavy with tension, as he spoke again, emphasizing every word, his tone deliberate and measured. "The fact that I want you hasn't changed, Orion." His gaze never wavered, his eyes burning with a fierce desire that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, a warmth spreading through my body as I processed his declaration. The words hung in the air, a palpable promise that seemed to vibrate with energy. He wants me. The knowledge sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but notice the way my body responded, the fabric of my pants tightening in a most...unsettling way.

But it was the next words that left me reeling, Harro's voice dripping with a possessive growl that sent a shiver down my spine. "But not when you're with her, I don't share." The implication hung in the air, a challenge, a warning, and a promise all rolled into one, leaving me feeling like I was standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the unknown.

As I sat there, still reeling from the intensity of our conversation, Harro's sudden change in tone caught me off guard. "Finish your breakfast, your bodyguard will be here any minute now," he said, standing up and gathering his breakfast plates with a nonchalance that belied the tension between us.

But just as I thought he was done, he dropped another bombshell, his eyes glinting with mischief as he added, "Please tell him to ease up on me a little, I'm not a bad guy. Or maybe I am..." His voice trailed off, leaving me wondering what he meant, but before I could even process the thought, he delivered the final blow.

"Seeing as I want to do very bad things to you," he said, his voice low and husky, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. I felt a shiver run down my spine as our eyes met, the connection between us crackling with tension.

And then, just as suddenly, he was gone, walking out of the kitchen with a confident stride that left me stunned and speechless. I sat there, my mind reeling, wondering how he could say such things without hesitation, without any apparent concern for the impact his words might have on me. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing, and was enjoying every minute of it.