Thirty

Hazel.

As consciousness slowly seeps back into my foggy mind, I'm greeted by a relentless throbbing in my head, each pulse like a hammer against my skull.

With a groan, I peel my heavy eyelids open, greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling swirling in a haze of exhaustion. Where am I? How did I end up here? Was I kidnapped?

The room around me is bathed in the gentle glow of morning light filtering through sheer curtains, casting dancing shadows across the plush bedding that cradles my aching body.

With a wince, I gingerly press my fingers against my temples, trying to quell the pounding rhythm echoing through my head.

Memories of last night trickle back in disjointed fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror slowly piecing themselves together.

I suddenly jolted upright, feeling a sharp ache pulsating through me, making me flinch. Blinking, I realized I was in Andrey's house, snug in his room, nestled in his bed.

Questions flooded my mind: Why was I here? Why didn't he take me home? Did