I woke up with a pounding head and a stranger in my bed—Eraza. Flashes of the night hit me: his desperate grip, ragged moans, me driving him hard against cold walls. I pushed off the sheets and stumbled toward the bathroom. Behind me, the sheets rustled. “Wait... you're really just gonna walk away?” Eraza's voice cracked—half-confused, half-hurt. “Did last night mean nothing?” I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection. What the hell had I done?
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