Cassie - 8

"Boy, your dad's really late tonight, huh?" I note with a deeply furrowed brow. My eyes turn toward the girl sitting near the table who doesn't seem at all surprised by my observation.

"He's always late," Taylor replies with a slight pout as she busies herself with her coloring book. Her cold and disappointed response sounds like what a parent would say if they were waiting for their kid to come home after breaking curfew.

I glance at the grandfather clock in the hallway which has gradually hit another hour. Taylor's father should have been back home a few hours ago according to his last text message to me which said he'd be back home by 10. However, it's only an hour to midnight now, and the storm outside is only getting worse and worse by the minute. My gaze shifts toward the closest window in hopes of seeing the headlights from his car coming through the gates.

Unfortunately, it's pitch dark outside with nothing but the moon to illuminate the shadows created by twilight. Countless trails of raindrops continue to fall and streak across the large window in the living room when my weary eyes catch sight of a white flash which cuts through the darkened sky. The bright and brief flicker of light within the skies is followed by a gentle yet ominous rumble in the distance which is barely audible above the heavy rainstorm. Seeing the dreary weather only reminds me of how much I want to be nestled under the warm comforts of my own blanket at home where the rain can't touch or find me.

Yet my mouth opens up big and wide as a tired yawn escapes me. The soothing sound of the rainfall hitting against the glass and the pavements slowly lulls me to sleep as I fight against my exhaustion to stay awake. Even though I'm well aware that the reason behind my drowsiness is not due to the relaxing ambient noises from the downpour but more because of the late hour of night that's approaching, there's not much I can do about it. The nanny contract that I signed states that I have to remain by Taylor's side until her father gets home.

Though the little girl definitely looks a lot more bummed about her father's late appearance than I do. The enthusiasm that she showed earlier when she was first starting to color in the drawings in her book is no longer there. All that's left of her keen interest is the determination to keep on coloring as a means of keeping her awake. But even her strong resolve to stay awake is starting to betray her as her eyes and head droop and bob to fight the fatigue that's gradually overwhelming her.

"You sure you don't want to go to bed first, Taylor? I can wake you up when he gets back," I suggest with a worried tone as I watch her stubbornly struggle against her drowsiness.

But the tired child wakes up from her brief dozing session and instantly shakes her head. "I don't want to sleep yet. I'm scared that daddy won't come back," she admits in a small voice.

My eyes bulge from the reasoning behind Taylor's unwillingness to go to bed. Clearly, the trauma of losing her mother has made her fearful and overly conscious of the possibility of losing her father as well.

"He's probably just with his girlfriend, sweetheart. There's nothing to worry about. Your dad will definitely come home for you," I gently reassure her with a warm smile. But the girl simply returns her response in the form of a weak nod of her head.

An aching sensation stirs in my heart after seeing the sullen expression on Taylor's face. I look toward the front door with a heavy frown. Even if Noah is spending a little extra time with his girlfriend, the least he can do is warn me so that Taylor doesn't have to look so worried the entire night. But it's probably for the best if I didn't disturb him, especially after the way I unintentionally witnessed their big argument which inadvertently made things a little awkward between us.

My cheeks flush as I relive the humiliating moment in my head again. Not only did I end up getting caught eavesdropping on their private quarrel, I also ended up catching more than a glimpse of Noah's bare body than I would have liked. The fine detail of the muscles on his chest and his stomach are all vivid images in my mind which I can't seem to erase no matter how hard I try. And what's even more mortifying is the fact that my heart actually races in pure excitement from the thought of his strong and built body.

Honestly, there's nothing more shameful for me than feeling aroused and attracted to my own boss who's much older than me and who already has someone he's currently dating. A scenario like this has 'bad' written all over it, and I'm constantly reminded of this unpleasant feeling each time I set my eyes on Taylor. She's the person that I've been entrusted with taking care of. I can't lose sight of my duties to protect her by foolishly thinking about her father -- even if he is a bit of a mystery and a heartthrob.

A loud sigh parts from Taylor's lips as she suddenly sets her crayon down on the table. She rests the palm of her hand against her cheek and mutters, "I wish he just didn't have any girlfriends. Then he would be home all the time. I wouldn't have to feel so lonely."

"Does your dad usually have a lot of girlfriends?" I hesitantly ask out of pure curiosity. Her father's definitely handsome and charming enough to attract all kinds of attention from women, so I wouldn't be surprised to find out if he was a bit of a womanizer. In fact, I'd be a little amazed if he wasn't with his huge ego.

However, the little girl promptly nods her head and confirms my suspicions. "Ever since mommy passed away, he's had a lot of girlfriends," Taylor sadly states. "This current one is the longest one that he's been with so far. I think she might become my new mommy."

I freeze up when I notice the painful and wistful expression in her tender brown eyes. My careless question has led the young girl into a deep pit of miserable thoughts and memories surrounding her deceased mother and the woman who might become her new mom. 'Sorry' is the only word that comes to mind as I watch the small child stare off into the distance. I try to find the right opportunity and opening to apologize to her when I hear the sound of the front door swing open.

Taylor darts out of her seat and runs straight toward the door with her arms wide-opened. "Daddy!" she joyfully shouts as she jumps right up into the tall man's arms.

"Hey kiddo!" Noah chuckles. He picks the young girl up into his tight grasp and gives her a kiss on the forehead. There's a warm and gentle expression on his face as he affectionately dotes on his one and only daughter, a rare yet heartwarming expression that is reserved for her alone.

"Wait a minute, why are you still awake? It's almost midnight," the man questions with an inquisitive glance that's pointed toward me. The soft gaze in his eyes fades from his face and is immediately replaced with a seemingly cold one.

"That's entirely my fault, Mr. Bishop. I know I should have properly made her go to bed, but Taylor stubbornly insisted on waiting up for you. I couldn't say no to her," I confess with a hard swallow and a wary heart. "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again."

But Noah shakes his head at my apology. "It's okay, Cassie. I'm sorry too for the long wait that you had to stay because of me. I know you're probably cutting it close on your bus ride back. My driver can bring you back home instead so you don't have to worry about missing your ride."

My eyes widen from the unexpected generosity, yet I move to deny his kind offer with a vigorous shake of my hands. "Oh, it's not a problem! I'm sure I can still make it if I leave right now. I don't want to trouble anyone at this late of an hour. Besides, a little rain never hurt anyone," I optimistically state with a loose shrug. However, almost as if it were right on cue, a low and deafening rumble sounds and pierces through the heavy rush of the rainfall.

"In this weather?" Noah slowly inquires with an amused smirk. He raises his brow and tilts his head at my adamant stance of refusing his proposal.

I firmly nod my head. Regardless of how unreasonable I might appear to him in maintaining my unusual decision, my mind ultimately remains unchanged on the matter. I can't find it within myself to inconvenience another person when I've gone through weather much worse than this small rainstorm to get home. So I wait for the long and noisy rumbling thunder to finally finish passing through before declining Noah's suggestion again.

But just as the noise begins to dissipate, another ominous roar rings out into the night which prevents me from speaking. Unsurprisingly, the weather seems to be getting worse and worse by the minute.

"You know, you should probably just stay the night, Cassie. We have plenty of room in the house to accommodate you, and I don't think I'd feel very comfortable letting you go home alone with this kind of storm brewing outside," Noah plainly mentions without any hesitation in his clear and commanding voice. Even the stern look in his green gaze doesn't falter as he watches me and waits for me to answer.

Hearing the natural and serious statement flow from his lips forces me to blankly stare at him with my mouth slightly open. I'm rendered completely speechless by his genuine concern for my safety which shouldn't have any of the strange underlying implications that I'm foolishly worrying about at all. Noah is my boss, and he's already made it very clear that the relationship between us is strictly business. I have no reason to be troubled by the fact that a man and a woman are staying under the same roof together. Especially when that man is already taken by another woman.

Still, I can't seem to accept the harmless offer without allowing my doubts and fears to get the best of me. It's almost impossible when the truth of the matter is that Noah is an incredibly good-looking man whom I happened to be also slightly attracted to. I'd be way too conscious of his presence to feel comfortable staying in his home which is basically an intimate space for him. A scenario like this just isn't okay for me.

"Uhh, I don't know about staying over. I'm sure that I'll be okay if I leave right now-" I start to speak with a nervous stammer, but a giddy voice loudly interjects before I can finish my complete sentence.

"Sleepover!" Taylor excitedly exclaims in the midst of my statement. The little girl jumps out of her father's arms and eagerly takes me by the hands. "We can have a sleepover, Cassie!" she announces while her large brown eyes overflow with excess joy and excitement.

The young girl animatedly jumps up and down from the prospect of me staying over for the rest of the night, the weary exhaustion that was once instilled in her small body almost an illusion. She smiles brightly at me with her enthusiastic stare gazing deep into my eyes. I bite my lip in uncertainty while my heart begins to wane from the zealous anticipation brimming from her stare. If there's one thing that I can wholeheartedly agree on, it's that Taylor really knows how to make it difficult to let her down.

And before I can even make a decision about what I want to do, the adamant little girl whisks me away by the hand and gently tugs me up the stairs. Any feeling or indication of free will that I had is gone once my legs begin to follow her up the steps and toward the guest bedroom. But I suppose a hidden part of me actually desires and welcomes this outcome considering that there isn't much resistance on my part. So I keep on climbing the staircase under Taylor's guidance until she finally brings me to the bedroom that I'll be sleeping in for the night -- a bedroom that's owned and under the rooftop of an attractive man who also happens to be my boss.

***

Ugh…where did Taylor say that the bathroom with the shower was again?

My hand pulls the knob and closes the door in defeat as the sound of the rainy thunderstorm continues to howl and rumble in the background. I've lost count of how many locked or incorrect doorways that I've opened in my desperate search to take a nice, hot shower. I can vaguely recall her mentioning that there was at least one on each floor, but she glossed over and answered the question so fast before moving on to talk about all the other rooms in the house. The only logical choice left is to directly ask Noah; however, my stubborn personality prevents me from doing so without feeling a bit embarrassed.

Though, I eventually decide to at least check and see if the lights in Noah's room happen to be on after minutes of fruitless searching. The last thing I need him or anyone else in the house to see is me suspiciously going through every single room in the Bishop household in spite of my honest intentions. I reluctantly begin my ascent up the stairs and head up to the top floor where Noah's room is located. When my footsteps finally reach the daunting destination, I immediately realize that there's no light piercing through from the doorway. There's not even a single stir within the dark room as I stick my ear up against the door to listen for any moving sounds.

I guess Noah is already asleep.

A troubled sigh breaks free from my lips as I ponder what to do about my situation. I turn my head and start to walk away from the door when a dim light glowing from down the hallway suddenly grabs my attention. My footsteps follow the unusual light which leads me toward a door with some illegible scribbles drawn in and written on it. I knock on the door and then peek my head into the room with the full expectation of finding Noah inside of it. But my mouth drops when I actually look inside.

There are pieces of artwork sitting in every corner of the room, colorful and rich paintings depicting various kinds of natural scenery. I smile and silently marvel at the painted images of the lush greenery of the vast forest and the vibrant fields of budding flowers in the wild. The vivid colors and details all come together to create a picture that is simply breathtaking and powerful. Each painting that I happen to come across and glance over at evokes the same peaceful sensation within me.

Captivated by the emotion and beauty depicted on every canvas, I continue to gape and stare at all the paintings until a cold and grim voice suddenly speaks out to me: "What are you doing in here?"

My heart instantly sinks from the sound of the man's voice before I can even turn to look at him. There's no mistaking who it is that's posing me with the question. I can feel my heartbeat anxiously racing and pounding as I turn to face the speaker standing by the door's entrance. An aloof green glare greets me as soon as I fully turn around to meet him.

This really doesn't look good for me.

Apologetic words naturally begin to flow out of my mouth. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bishop. I honestly didn't mean to intrude on your private rooms. I thought you were inside because the lights were still on, so I came in to ask you something. But now I realize that it was a mistake because you clearly weren't inside," I ramble in a panicked voice.

Yet in spite of my tense posture and manner of speaking, Noah plainly crosses his arms in front of his chest and gives me a look which is neither angry nor sad. In fact, I can't really tell what he's thinking or feeling from behind that iron mask of his. I can't help but wonder how this awkward situation would be a lot easier to navigate if Noah actually showed me even the slightest hint of his emotions.

"So what did you need to ask me?" Noah nonchalantly says.

The unanticipated inquiry from him takes me by surprise."Oh! Uhh, I was just trying to figure out which room in the house had a shower. Taylor vaguely told me where I could find one, but I seem to have forgotten what she said," I admit with a nervous laugh.

"There's one down the hall from the guestroom you're staying in. Third door on the left."

"Okay, awesome! Thanks," I stiffly reply with an even stiffer smile.

But the man doesn't give me much of a response back as his piercing green gaze continues to watch me restlessly fidget in place. The pressure from his unnerving stare compels me to eventually take the hint which is to get out and leave the room as fast as I can. My legs couldn't have moved any quicker as I shuffle them across the floor and brush past Noah where I somehow manage to make my biggest mistake. I allow the intimidating atmosphere to get the best of me, and I end up saying something absolutely unnecessary and idiotic to him.

"The paintings are really beautiful, by the way! I didn't know that you painted at all. I mean, you don't exactly look like the artsy type-"

"I don't. These paintings aren't mine," Noah interrupts. His empty stare shifts away from me and remains fixated on the painted pieces within the room instead. "My late wife was the one who loved to paint. I don't know the first damn thing about making art. That was her forte, not mine."

A sad smile briefly appears on his lips which breaks my heart as soon as I see it. It's the first time I've seen him express his raw emotion to me all night, but witnessing him in such a weak and vulnerable state isn't what I had in mind. I sigh and hang my head. The deep regret of me deciding to open my big mouth when I clearly didn't need to weighs down heavily in my chest as I rush to gather my thoughts.

"…I'm sorry," I shamefully shake my head and weakly apologize to him.

"Don't be, Cassie. She would be thrilled to hear that someone other than Taylor or me appreciated her artwork. Especially since she was always too shy to show anyone else her paintings."

"No… I mean that I'm sorry not only for bringing up such a painful and private matter without thinking, but also for being extremely harsh on you the first time we met. You were right. I didn't know a single thing about your family situation, yet I was incredibly rude to you."

The brazen manner of my proud words from that night still ring loudly in my head. I can't help but beat myself up over the painful realization of my impudent behavior which fills me with immense grief each time I recall the moment. I severely misjudged Noah and made him out to be the villain when he was trying his best to be a hero. The only bad guy in this entire scenario is me for misunderstanding that.

"It must be difficult for you to be a single father to a young and growing girl like Taylor. She's definitely a handful," I add.

Noah immediately bursts out laughing after my statement. "Yeah, she really is a handful, isn't she?" he responds as he brightly beams in agreement.

My whole body stops and freezes from the sight of Noah's smiling expression. The ends of his lips are genuinely curved upward while the white of his teeth are bared right in front of me. I can feel my heart gently flutter and flit from the dazzling presence of his smile. He's even more handsome and striking when he's putting on a joyful appearance, the noticeable difference of his age from mine erased by the youthful energy that's exuding from his grin.

I abruptly shift my eyes away from Noah. It's way too dangerous for me to stay in the warm comfort of that perfect smile. I might end up getting even more drawn in by him than I already am.

"Well, I should probably go now and take that shower before it gets too late," I quietly utter as my thumb points toward the staircase. But before I can turn around to leave, the inscrutable man stops me with a single word from his mouth: "Hey."

His sudden callout to me gives me no choice but to turn toward him where I reluctantly come face to face with his brilliant and mesmerizing green eyes. A tender sensation slowly stirs in my heart when we lock stares with each other. It seems like no matter how often I make contact with his gaze, I still can't get used to the beauty of it. The stunning green shade of his eyes is a color that I could lost in forever.

"This might sound strange, but do you want to have a drink together in my study? A small toast to your unexpected success as Taylor's nanny?" Noah coolly suggests in a light and playful tone.

As soon as I hear his invitation, my immediate gut feeling tells me that it's a bad idea. If it were any other person aside from my boss, I would definitely jump at the chance to say yes and enjoy a drink or two. Having a friendly drink just doesn't feel appropriate, especially with the conflicting way that I feel toward him. I'd only be digging myself into an even deeper hole if I accepted another one of his generous offers. However, the strong feelings of resistance in my chest don't match up with the words that end up coming out of my mouth.

"Yeah, sure," I say with a nod. It's almost like my lips naturally move on their own, my voice a completely separate entity from the rest of my body.

Before I can fully realize what I'm doing, my feet are already following behind Noah where he leads me into his private study. My actions and surroundings almost feel like a complete dream the whole time I'm moving around and getting situated on his leather couch. It isn't until the man lifts the wineglass up for me to take out of his hand that I come to understand the odd situation that I've put myself in.

"Cheers to the woman who's already lasted longer on the job than most of my previously hired nannies. I'm glad to see my gamble paid off," Noah says as he brings his glass up into the air.

I quickly follow suit and lift my glass up as well. "Yeah, cheers!" I smile.

The light impact of our wineglasses hitting against each other makes a satisfying clink as we proudly drink to our individual successes. Yet my eyes bulge in surprise and delight once the wine enters my mouth. The rich and deep flavor of the drink dances on my tongue and spreads beyond my taste buds unlike any other wine I've ever tasted. Surely, the inexplicable experience that's happening with each swallow of the red wine is due to the hefty price tag of it, but I can't stop myself from having another large sip from the glass which actually empties out the remaining contents within the goblet.

My eyes sneak a glance over at Noah's wineglass which is still filled with a bit of red liquid. It looks like I may have jumped the gun a bit by downing the entire drink without pacing myself. There's no doubt in my mind that he won't think that I'm some sort of drunkard now after the way I finished drinking the wine so quickly. I look up at him in hopes that he doesn't see my empty glass, but a nervous panic falls over me when I notice the slight shock on Noah's face. His stare is pointed right at the clear and unfilled goblet in my hand.

"I, uh, couldn't really help myself! This wine tastes amazing. I've never had anything like this before," I timidly chuckle.

Although I can feel my cheeks getting a bit warm and flushed, I can't quite figure out if it's from the alcohol, my own embarrassment, or maybe even a mixture of both. All I know for certain is that the burning sensation within my stomach is telling me that the effects of the wine are gradually starting to kick in. My head is actually feeling a bit woozy and lightheaded now that I think about it. However, Noah simply takes my empty cup and pours another glass for me without saying anything, the slight smile on his lips the only real indicator of his reaction.

"I'm glad you like it. This one is one of my favorites," the man softly responds.

I quietly watch him pour the red liquor into the glass while a flash of lightning shines through the curtains in front of the window. I somehow manage to forget that there's even a storm raging outside because I'm way too conscious of the shared moment and space between me and Noah to focus or think about anything else. The deep yet gentle timbre of his voice and the size and length of his slender fingers are just some of the details that I happen to naturally fixate on and notice about him. Everything else that's within sight is simply background and setting to me.

When Noah finishes refilling my wineglass with another helping of liquor, he hands it over to me with a bit of an amused smirk on his face. I humbly accept the glass from him even though I know that I'm probably past my limit of drinking. It wouldn't feel right to refuse him now when I was the one who agreed to his suggestion. Yet the discomfort I feel due to the awkward silence leaves me with no other choice but to keep on drinking as a means to fill that tense void within the room.

The smooth and rich taste of the wine enters my lips for a second time while my curious eyes look around the neat and tidy room which Noah considers his private study. There are a surprising amount of framed photos hanging on the walls and sitting on the shelves, most of the pictures taken within a business setting. Noah is present in every image with a proud smile which I presume to be because of the joyous occasion being celebrated at the time the photograph was taken. Each photo appears to be some sort of a call for celebration based on what I can only assume to be due to his business efforts.

I gaze at the different photographs across the room in awe and amazement. There is no doubt that Noah is definitely a hard worker and a man of many accomplishments. His successes are even more impressive when I think about how he endlessly works to juggle both fatherhood and his other stressful work obligations. And even though the first impression he gave me of himself was pretty awful and infuriating, I'm glad that I ended up finding out that he isn't as terrible of a man as I first thought he was.

He's actually kind of amazing.

"You know, for what it's worth, you're not doing that bad of a job as her father. And that's a lot more than what I can say about my own deadbeat father," I unabashedly admit with a smile. "Taylor's really lucky to have such a hardworking dad. Even if she doesn't realize it yet."

Noah's entire body perks up as he lifts his head after acknowledging my flattering comment. His vivid green stare looks right into my eyes with a modest look of satisfaction. He seems strangely pleased to hear my small words of praise, and it's almost as though he's gotten a compliment about his parenting for the first time. The faint aura of pride that I sense from his silent yet telling expression is rather endearing. Despite being a man of countless achievements and successes, Noah still manages to feel delight from my praise.

What an unusual man.

I lift the wineglass up to my mouth for another sip when a frightening rumble crashes close by the window, the thunderous noise practically surrounding the whole house. Both my heart and my body automatically jump up in surprise from the sudden startling roar which causes my hand to shake with intense fear. Yet by the time I regain composure of my nerves, the red liquid within the glass already ends up spilling out of the rim from the momentum and landing all over my clothes. I blankly stare at the bright red stains on my top in a bit of drunken suspension.

An awkward laugh escapes me when I realize the blunder, my anxious gaze desperately looking around the vicinity for anything that I could potentially use to wipe down and dry off the mess. But Noah quickly rushes over to my side with a handkerchief and begins helping me clean off the spilled wine. I hardly have a chance to think or react before he starts blotting the cloth against my top, the gentle motion and pressure of his hand pressing up along the side of my breast. My heart naturally begins to race from the presence of his touch against my body.

Flushed cheeks, a warm body temperature, and a rapid heartbeat. These symptoms clearly aren't only from the effects of the alcohol that I've been drinking. Especially not when there's another heavy feeling stirring within my chest and between my thighs. I want to hide my desirous intentions from him, but I know the expression on my face will betray me. All I can do is silently hope that he doesn't notice and pray that the increasing sound of the rain and thunder can mask my true feelings.

But those expectations of mine don't last very long as Noah suddenly stops his hand motions and gradually lifts his face toward me. A strong rush of emotion grabs a hold of my heart while I closely stare into those beautiful green eyes of his which leave me utterly speechless. I can't seem to look away from him no matter how hard I try to resist him. The intimate atmosphere and magnetic attraction keep on pulling and drawing me in until it's too late for me to pretend that I'm not simply staring at him like a young girl who's smitten by the sight of him.

My heart tenses up even tighter than it already was when I feel Noah gently place his hand under my chin and along the side of my neck. There's no time to think or process what he's going to do next before it quickly happens -- an unexpected kiss. I completely freeze up and accept the incident without resistance, my eyes still wide-open from his bold and sudden action. However, my entire world feels like it's constantly spinning in circles as I start to notice the soft texture of his lips against my mouth. Pleasant tingles run down my spine and dance across my chest with each taste of his wine-stained lips.

It's strange. I can't quite explain the satisfying feeling that's coursing through my body because of his lips.

How does a kiss that should have been wrong on so many different levels feel so right at the same time?

Even though there are a bunch of doubts and questions surfacing in my head about what we're doing with each other, I foolishly allow the natural flow of the moment to take me over. The control that I have over my own impulses is weak, and the pleasure derived from Noah's kisses outweighs all the future consequences that I have yet to think of. But as much as I want to continue exploring this heart racing sensation and feeling with him, the moment is cut short when the door to the study promptly swings open.

"Daddy, are you awake? I can't sleep. The thunderstorm is too loud and scary," Taylor complains as she rubs her weary eyes and nonchalantly steps into the room.

Both Noah and I couldn't have jumped and moved any further apart from one another as soon as the child's voice rings out across the air. My nervous gaze ends up pointing toward the floor while my cheeks heat up from the tense and suffocating situation. I can't bring myself to look Taylor in the face without feeling an immediate guilty sensation heavily weighing down on my chest. Though despite her unannounced entrance and terrible timing, the little girl doesn't seem to notice the adult atmosphere lingering in the room at all.

Thank god she's still young.

"Yeah, I was actually just about to go to bed. You can sleep with me tonight," Noah says as he walks over to the door to pick her up into his arms. He then turns his eyes to me and coolly adds without missing a beat, "I'm going to go and tuck Taylor in first. Good night, Cassie."

"Yeah, of course. Good night," I stammer.

After my parting words reach Noah, the father and daughter quietly head out the door and ultimately leave me behind in the study by myself. I'd normally feel uneasy about hanging around in a dimly-lit room when I'm all alone and a storm is raging outside, but I actually like it a lot more this way. The silence and stimulating noise of the rainfall gives me time to think about what the hell just happened between me and my boss. I shakily hold my head in my hands and close my eyes in pure dismay.

What would have happened if Taylor didn't come into the room and interrupt us?

Would we have truly gone all the way and to a point of no return?

These are all important questions that I'm frankly afraid to find out the answers to. But what I'm even more afraid of is what is waiting in store for me when tomorrow comes. I'm scared to think about all the terrible scenarios that might happen when we're forced to address the kiss that took place between us. For the first time in my life, I honestly don't want this dark night or this violent storm to end because there's no telling what tomorrow will bring.

It's kind of crazy that I have absolutely no idea how this dilemma will turn out, but my fingers are tightly crossed. I sincerely hope this doesn't end up becoming one of the biggest regrets of my life.