I left Michael’s room without the towels or the water. My mind was still full of what just happened. The wall. His hands. The way he stayed quiet the whole time. I walked straight past the lift, down the staff stairs, and out the side door.
It was already late. The night sky looked heavy. I took the bus home in silence, staring out the window. My body still felt him. Every time the bus hit a bump I remembered how hard he pushed into me. How he held me against the wall like he owned that moment. I pressed my thighs together and looked away from the other passengers.
I couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
At home I showered quickly, ate leftover rice, and went to bed. Sleep came slow. My thoughts kept going back to his voice when he said “same time tomorrow.”
The next morning I clocked in on time
