RONAN'S POV:
"Think straight, Ronan," I cautioned myself as I leaned back on the chair, trying to push aside the swirling thoughts. "Stay calm and focused."
But it wasn’t easy. The overwhelming silence between us only amplified the tension, making my thoughts race even more.
"Hope you didn’t have a hangover from your,...." I began, trying to break the silence, my words trailing off as I hesitated to bring up last night's events.
"Drunkenness, you mean?" she called out from the kitchen, picking up where I had left off.
"Surprisingly, I didn’t," she continued, her voice light but with an edge of uncertainty. "But I can’t deny that something felt off with my body."
"Of course, that should definitely happen, or I would've questioned your drinking status," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Her laugh echoed from the kitchen.
Then I heard it—a sudden exclamation. "Oh my God!" The panic in her voice sent me bolting to the kitchen.