Karis (Patreon)

Karis at the Hilton

I remember the hum of the air-con first — soft, steady, almost like it was breathing with me. The Hilton room felt too big and too quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your heartbeat sound louder than it should.

I sat on the edge of the bed, legs curled underneath me, the sheets still warm from where I’d pushed them aside. My hair was a mess, falling over one shoulder, and I could still feel the heat in my cheeks from how long I’d been thinking about you.

I kept glancing at the door, wondering how long it would take you to notice the message I’d left.

Wondering how you’d react when you finally walked in.

Wondering if you’d see it in my eyes — the way I couldn’t quite hide the mischief, or the anticipation tightening low in my stomach.

I tugged the sheets softly between my fingers, letting the fabric slip slow and deliberate.

Just enough to make you curious.

Just enough to make you ache a little when you imagined the rest.

And then I heard the faint sound of footsteps in the hallway.

I smiled.

I didn’t bother hiding how much I wanted the moment to begin.