22-04-2026, 07:36 PM
DAY 2 - MORNING: "The Sunlight Changes Everything"
The first thing Anjali noticed was the warmth. Not from the blanket, which lay tangled somewhere near their feet, but from Rohan's body pressed against her back, his arm dbangd protectively over her waist. For a blissful moment between sleep and waking, she forgot. Then memory flooded back.
Last night. Their parents' bed. Everything they'd done.
Her eyes snapped open. Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting everything in harsh, revealing light. What seemed natural in darkness now felt impossibly real. She could feel every inch of his bare skin against hers, his steady breathing on her neck.
![[Image: AA0016.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/q3gDZWDJ/AA0016.jpg)
Panic fluttered in her chest. What had they done? What were they doing? She started to pull away,
"Don't," Rohan's voice, rough with sleep, murmured against her ear. His arm tightened gently around her waist. "Please don't... not yet."
"Rohan, we, "
"I know." His voice carried the same confusion she felt. "I know. But just... five more minutes. Let's just be here for five more minutes before we think about what it means."
Anjali felt her body relax back into his embrace despite herself. There was something devastatingly honest about morning, no darkness to hide behind, no movie to blame, no alcohol in their systems to use as an excuse.
Just them, bare and vulnerable, in their parents' bed where they absolutely shouldn't be.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
Such a loaded question. Was she? Her mind screamed that she shouldn't be, that this was wrong on every level. But her body hummed with remembered pleasure, and her heart... her heart felt dangerously full.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Are you?"
His lips brushed the curve of her shoulder, such a simple gesture that sent shivers down her spine. "I should feel worse than I do," he confessed. "I keep waiting to feel disgusted or ashamed, but all I feel is... want."
That one word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.
The first thing Anjali noticed was the warmth. Not from the blanket, which lay tangled somewhere near their feet, but from Rohan's body pressed against her back, his arm dbangd protectively over her waist. For a blissful moment between sleep and waking, she forgot. Then memory flooded back.
Last night. Their parents' bed. Everything they'd done.
Her eyes snapped open. Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting everything in harsh, revealing light. What seemed natural in darkness now felt impossibly real. She could feel every inch of his bare skin against hers, his steady breathing on her neck.
Panic fluttered in her chest. What had they done? What were they doing? She started to pull away,
"Don't," Rohan's voice, rough with sleep, murmured against her ear. His arm tightened gently around her waist. "Please don't... not yet."
"Rohan, we, "
"I know." His voice carried the same confusion she felt. "I know. But just... five more minutes. Let's just be here for five more minutes before we think about what it means."
Anjali felt her body relax back into his embrace despite herself. There was something devastatingly honest about morning, no darkness to hide behind, no movie to blame, no alcohol in their systems to use as an excuse.
Just them, bare and vulnerable, in their parents' bed where they absolutely shouldn't be.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
Such a loaded question. Was she? Her mind screamed that she shouldn't be, that this was wrong on every level. But her body hummed with remembered pleasure, and her heart... her heart felt dangerously full.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Are you?"
His lips brushed the curve of her shoulder, such a simple gesture that sent shivers down her spine. "I should feel worse than I do," he confessed. "I keep waiting to feel disgusted or ashamed, but all I feel is... want."
That one word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.
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