"Hey! Wanna have some?", my Stud-muffin asked pointing to the beer cans in his hand.
"But it's too late. I have early morning class tomorrow." I looked at his grumpy face. His cheeks were red and looked drunk.
BUZZ! BUZZ! My phone vibrated. It was Dean. I received the call and went inside my room. I don't wanna take any risk. That foul-mouthed fellow can say something inappropriate near him.
I came back after my talk. Eric was not there. Maybe he went to freshen up. I closed my laptop and started assembling my assignment papers. As soon as I turned back, I stumbled on something.
The next thing I remember is I landed on the sofa and Eric on top of me. I gulped. He gulped. We stared at each other. He came near my face.....more .....more...more....Is he trying to kiss me???
Startled, I pushed him aside and stood up. "Sorry!" I struggled to speak.
He sat on the sofa. "Can we talk?" Saying this, he picked up the two cans from the floor that dropped from his hand some seconds ago and gave one to me.
I took the can from his hand. I couldn't resist more and sat near him.
Gulping some drink he spoke, "It has been three weeks."
But our marriage was held one week ago. I told him, "It's actually one...."
He placed his lips on mine. My lips shivered. Gathering my senses, I punched him. Although he's drunk, he should know how to behave.
I looked at his shocked face. His left cheek turned red. I suddenly felt bad for that soul and somehow my hands went near his face, caressing his cheeks.
My hands patted on his cheeks as if I had no control over them. My eyes met his lips and in no time my thumbs were caressing his lips. One of my thumbs found the inlet and touched his tongue, while the other one still playing with the lips. His tongue too started to play with my thumb licking back and forth. I felt something stinging my hand as he sucked my thumb.
I collected my senses and removed my hands. I was nervous and didn't know what to do. Taking my can, I gulped it all in one go.
"Relax! You are a moderate drinker." He took the empty can from me and continued, "You were drunk after only one glass during our fresher's party. Also you were tipsy the day we had a fight over my leaked photo in the college. Poor Dean had to carry you to your house. Did you even remember that I gave you a lift in my car?" He smirked.
Crap!! Did something like this happen in the past? Dean never mentioned it though!!
Putting aside the can, he placed both his hands on my cheeks. I could feel his warm palms caressing me. I wanted to move but my senses seemed paralyzed. Both of us stared at each other. His breathing was heavy and I could feel his exhaled air as he came near me. His face now was an inch away from mine. We continued our stares. He stroke his lips wet with his tongue making me gulp at the scene. My heart was thumping at its height. My bare hands seemed heavy when I tried to push him aside.
But it was useless to push this muscular giant. My hands now freely roamed touching his chest and abs. They stopped their searching when it touched the trouser's belt. I looked down to see the obstacle when my Stud -muffin pulled my face near his and glued his lips on mine.
Both the tongues invaded each other's mouth willfully. My uninhabited mouth was now consumed by his reckless tongue and his plump lips sucking every corner of my lips. My rhythm to his pace was unruly. Maybe this tipsy guy is over excited.
At first it was difficult to keep pace with his rhythm but soon I mastered it. But ....but now my eyes seemed blurry...my head was heavy and I blacked out in no time.
The next time I opened my eyes, I found myself on his bed. It was morning and my Stud-muffin was nowhere to be found in the room. I sat down as my head was still hazy and the things of last night, that I clearly remembered before I blackout, seemed unclear.
I remember we shared a good kiss and we had a drink that made me brave enough to go for the kiss. But....
"Good morning!" A voice was heard from the washroom.
"Good morning!" I spoke looking at his bare chest and shorts. I flushed.
"Mrs. Angethes made a hangover soup. Have it before leaving."
"Yes!" I nodded and stood up to go to the washroom. Suddenly my leg got twisted and I shouted, "Aggh!"
Before I could blink, he rushed, "Do your bumps hurt? Do you want to visit the doctor?"
I gulped thinking about the scenario. Have I done it with him last night? Oh!! Did he take the precautions?? CRAPP!!!
"Sorry! I thought it won't hurt you much but I was wrong." He slowly grabbed my hand and made me sit on the bed.
"Last night we....I mean have we....I passed out so I can't remember a thing, not even the thing on the sofa." I faked a smile and continued, "So you need not feel sorry about anything. And I'm fine. I just twisted my ankle while walking now."
"Oh!!" He felt relieved.
"But you asked if my bump hurts. Why?" I enquired.
"OHH! Actually when you slept on the sofa, I carried you to the room. But since I was drunk, I misbalanced and your bump was hit on the door knob."
I was too shocked to respond. I stood up and went straight to the washroom.
As I came back, I found him searching for something.
"What are you looking for?"
"My wallet. I always keep it in the drawers as soon as I return home. But yesterday,...." He paused. That little pause made me remember the whole scene. I felt uneasy and I flushed.
"It's in the self near the TV stand. You kept it there yesterday." I recalled.
He was searching for something again. "Have you seen my car keys?"
"On the tea table near the sofa." I promptly answered.
Was I behaving like a typical housewife? I questioned myself. But then, brushed off the thoughts thinking it was just because I am a good observer.
Suddenly out of nowhere I prompted, "Yesterday you said something about three weeks...but it's only one...."
"Ohh! Forget a drunkard's talk. My thoughts were too heavy yesterday."
"What happened? I have never seen you drunk before."
"Paul! He's not even replying to my messages. Last time we talked was about three weeks ago. I know he's busy there, but he never did this before. I'm worried."
No further questions came from my mouth. All this time he was thinking about his lover. Yesterday, did he kiss me thinking about him?
"What happened to your eyes?" He asked.
"Nothing" But I realized my eyes becoming wet and in no time a tear rolled onto my cheek. I turned my face not to show him this vulnerable side of mine.
Weeping it aside I looked at him and spoke, "Don't worry. He'll contact you when he gets time. You need to understand him also, right?"
He nodded. My hearted pinched.

How can I forget the actual reason for this marriage?
Is it really fair for someone to fall for the same person twice?? Why is it always me who is left behind with a scar and me alone thinking about that scar?? It's sometimes so disturbing because the days I think of forgetting him are those days when I remember him the most. Maybe the reason why I can't let go of him is because deep inside I still hope!!! But now I have to be sure about my stances.