128. The Drunken Mistake.

128. The Drunken Mistake.
128\. The Drunken Mistake.

“Sam, where have you been?”
Eirene was all over him, clearly drunk, poking his face with her finger as her words slurred.

“I’ve been here the whole time, Eirene.”
Samuel replied, gently taking hold of her hand. Her nails, sharper than before, had scratched his chin.

“Were you… Really?”
She leaned in closer, her eyes hazy as she tried to focus on his face, swaying unsteadily.

“Eirene, you’re dangerously close to me right now.”
Samuel warned in a low voice. He hadn’t expected her to drink so much, his plan had only been to ease her guilt and perhaps make her soften toward him and Lucy. But she had kept drinking, drawn in by the sweet taste of the wine.

“You’re Sam, right…?”
Her face was now inches from his, eyes searching. In her heart, Sam and Samuel still felt like two separate people. When she said “Sam,” there was tenderness in her voice, something that reached deep into him.

“Yes… It’s me.”
His voice was barely a whisper.

His hand moved instinctively to her waist, steadying her as she shifted again, her body pressing lightly into his. Something inside him stirred. Her breath was warm, her touch familiar.

“Eirene… please stop moving,”
he said, his grip tightening.
“It’s not safe... I don’t want to take advantage.”

But then she touched his leg gently, leaning in closer, and whispered his name again. His restraint started to crack.

“Sam…, I missed you.”
it was enough for him to lose all control.

Then, without warning, she kissed him, soft, clumsy, but full of feeling. It mirrored the way he once taught her long ago. The memory surged through him.

Samuel responded, kissing her back, deeper this time. He shifted, gently lowering her onto the sofa. Their breathing grew heavier, tangled in one another as emotion overtook them.

When they pulled apart for a moment, he looked down at her, panting, her cheeks flushed, her eyes fogged with wine and emotion. He hesitated.

“Eirene…”
But she pulled him down again, wrapping her arms around his neck. She responded to his passion without hesitation, and he lost himself in her.

Their kisses deepened. Samuel’s hands trailed to her waist, then her shoulders. He paused now and then, checking her eyes, her breath, making sure she was still with him, still saying yes with every move.

Clothes slipped away, scattered across the floor like forgotten memories. Their breaths grew heavier, syncing with the rising tension in the air.

Soft gasps and whispered names echoed through the quiet night as they came together, bound by guilt, longing, and a love neither of them had ever truly let go.

Eirene, in Samuel’s arms, felt exactly as she had years ago, tender, warm, and achingly familiar. She trembled under his touch, flinching at every delicate caress, not from fear but from the overwhelming sensation of feeling something so deeply again. Yet, she clung to him, refusing to let go, as though she was afraid he’d disappear once more.

Samuel held her tightly, breathing her in. After all these years, he had her again, the girl who had grown into a woman by his side, the only one who ever made him feel whole. No matter how many others he’d held since, none had ever replaced her.

Her soft whimpers fueled something inside him, something raw, deep, and desperate. His movements, once gentle and restrained, grew more urgent, driven by a mix of aching passion and long-suppressed emotion. Every time she whispered his name between breathless moans, it tore at something in him and healed it all at once.

He whispered back to her, her name, promises, and memories, pressing tender kisses to her lips, her forehead, her trembling shoulders. His hands moved with reverence, as though rediscovering her body was a sacred ritual, one he had craved for far too long.

Wrapped in each other’s arms, they lost themselves in a rhythm; not from wine, but from the way they intoxicated one another. Time blurred, and the world beyond them faded into darkness.

Eirene whimpered softly in her sleep, shifting a few times before slowly opening her eyes. The room was dark, too dark for what she could sense was already a bright morning outside. The ceiling above her felt unfamiliar, yet oddly familiar at the same time.

Fragments of the previous night rushed back, drinking with Samuel, her emotions unsteady, her body even more so. Her head pounded, but it wasn’t just her head; every inch of her body ached in a way that told a story her memory couldn’t fully piece together.

As she sat up, trying to recall exactly what had happened, the blanket slipped from her shoulders. The cool air brushed against her bare skin, and in that instant, her mind jolted to clarity.

She quickly pulled the blanket tighter, only to realize the other side was already occupied.

A silent scream caught in her throat as she nearly tumbled off the bed.

Next to her, a man lay asleep, broad back exposed, the soft glow of light filtering in through a crack in the curtains outlined the contours of his toned body. Even without seeing his face, she knew. It was Samuel.

He lay on his stomach, one arm under the pillow, his head turned away from her. The blanket covered only the lower half of his body… just enough for Eirene to realize that neither of them had a single thread of clothing on.

She didn’t need her memories to confirm it. Her body remembered everything.

Heart racing, Eirene slipped carefully out of bed, thankful that Samuel was always a deep sleeper in the mornings. The only clothing she could find was his nightgown tossed over the sofa. She grabbed it, pulling it over her as she tiptoed out of the bedroom.

In the living room, her cheeks flared.

Their clothes were scattered all over the floor. Half-filled wine glasses still sat on the edge of the couch, red drops staining the cushion. The unmistakable evidence of their passion lingered in the room, unapologetic, vivid.

Blushing, Eirene didn’t wait another second. She left the apartment without a sound.

She wasn’t angry. She knew Samuel hadn’t forced anything on her; in fact, she feared it may have been the other way around.

Back in the bedroom, Samuel stirred. His hand reached across the empty side of the bed, fingers grazing the warmth left behind.

He smiled to himself.

“When will the day come... when I’ll wake up to your face?”