She rolled over, vaguely aware that she was not in her own bed. The sheets were too soft against her skin, the pillow too supple.
She laid there for a few minutes, letting the room slowly come into focus. The alarm clock gave off a soft glow in the dim room.
“Oh shit.” She thought, clasping her hand to her mouth the second she realized she had said it out loud.
She said she’d never go back. She said it was over, done, that she would never see him again…yet here she was, wrapped in his 800 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, and the shame washed over her in waves.
She delicately lifted herself out of the bed, set one foot carefully down on the floor at a time. She willed the box spring not to announce her departure.
She held her breath, slowly turning around to see – she met his eyes.
And saw his smile.
“It’s only 8:00. Where are you going so early?” He asked, but she was already sprinting for the door.
* * *
This week at Write On Edge, we were asked to write about 8:00 – in under 200 words, fiction or non-fiction. I went with fiction, because it’s more fun.