The tall, handsome college guy stood before me, freshly showered and brimming with youthful energy.

I, exhausted and worn out, looked at him and said, “You’re in college now, and your sister still expects me to look after you?”

I didn’t even get that kind of care when I went through a breakup.

As I scrutinized him, Eason Morris’s handsome face showed a flicker of discomfort.

"I twisted my ankle these past few days, so it’s been a bit of a hassle. My sister said… since you’re close to campus, if it’s too much trouble, I can find somewhere else..."

He tried to limp towards the door, stumbling slightly.

Seeing him like this, I felt I couldn’t just turn him away, especially with a guy like him around.

"Forget it, just stay here. But as you can see, it’s a studio apartment, so you’ll have to sleep on the couch. How tall are you?"

From my observation, he was easily a head taller than me.

Eason replied, "Six foot two inches."

Tall and well-built, that was my first impression of him.

"Viola."

"Hmm?"

Eason looked awkwardly at my hand still resting on his arm.

When I pulled my hand away, it felt a bit warm. I tried to stay composed and said, "Don’t be so formal. Since I’m friends with your sister, you should call me 'sister.' Anyway, the couch is about six foot three inches long, so it should fit you just fine. I’m tired, so I’m going to..."

"I brought some drinks. I heard you’re going through a breakup. How about we have a drink together?" Eason seemed to brush off my attempt at formality.

I thought to myself.

If it weren’t for Demi Allen asking me to look after her brother, I would have been heading out for drinks anyway. His offer was perfect timing.

After drinking too much, I found myself sitting on the carpet, ranting about my ex for being a closeted gay who had deceived me.

"He acted so perfectly when he was chasing me, good morning, good night, bringing me food every day. And now he’s with his roommate. Am I just that blind? How did I not realize he was gay?"

I wasn’t done venting by myself. I dragged him into it too.

"Why aren’t you saying anything? You should be cursing him with me!"

"You’re drunk."

In my hazy state, I heard someone speaking in my ear, making it itch.

Maybe I really was too drunk. When I tried to get up, my head felt heavy and light at the same time, and I ended up collapsing against him.

He smelled like my shower gel, which I liked.

Somehow, in my foggy state, I ended up underneath him.

He called my name, "Viola," in that low, raspy voice.

As the pain started to hit, I thought I heard someone whisper in my ear, "He betrayed you. Let me help you get back at him… sister."

It was an absurd thing to say, with no real basis, but at that moment, I was lost in the sound of him calling me "sister."

He was young, rough, and unrefined, with no real technique.

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache, and as the memories of the previous night came rushing back, I was paralyzed with shock.

Did I really… sleep with my best friend’s brother?

He’s in college, so he must be… an adult now, right?

I grabbed my hair in frustration, overwhelmed with self-recrimination.

I couldn’t face my best friend, and I definitely didn’t dare to face Eason.

I strained to listen for any sign of Eason, and once I was sure he wasn’t in the room, I cautiously peeked through the door crack.

After quickly gathering my things, I made a hasty exit to work.

“Sister.”

As I walked onto campus, the sudden call made my skin crawl.

In the next moment, I saw the brother and sister walking to school, and the younger brother greeted me politely, “Good morning, Miss Green.”

It wasn’t Eason.

I took a deep breath. “You, you guys, good morning.”

The whole day, except for teaching my classes, I was distracted.

While serving coffee to the Dean, I even accidentally burned her hand.

The usually stern Dean, who had somehow heard about my troubles, surprised me by not expressing any displeasure. Instead, she comforted me, saying, “Young girl, there’s nothing you can’t overcome. If you’re not feeling well, take a couple of days off to rest and adjust your emotions.”

Take a couple of days off?

My eyelid twitched. “No, no, Principal, I’m fine. I don’t want personal issues to affect my work. I’m okay.”

After two years on the job, it was the first time I saw genuine approval in the principal’s eyes.

As school let out, I was at the door, organizing students to line up and leave.

Just as most had gone, I looked up and saw Eason among the parents picking up their kids.

My heart skipped a beat. The moment I’d dreaded had finally come.

We returned home in silence, and eventually, I couldn’t bear the inner guilt any longer. I decided to speak up.

“About last night…”

“It’s my fault,” Eason cut me off suddenly, looking genuinely contrite. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. If you want to report me, I’m ready to face the consequences.”

Report him?

My eyelids fluttered. I was drunk too and couldn’t clearly remember how things started, making it hard to blame him entirely.

More importantly, I had a nagging feeling that I might have been the one who stirred things up.

I forced a casual laugh. “Between adults, it’s fine. It’s nothing to worry about. Don’t let it bother you.”

Inside, I was a bundle of nerves, struggling to keep up a façade of being a carefree lover.

I needed to maintain the act for a few more minutes, even though my smile was becoming strained.

As I considered finding an excuse to retreat to my room, Eason glanced down. “You haven’t eaten yet, right? I’ll make us something.”

I scratched my head and sat down on the sofa, feeling a bit down.

I thought it might be best to get away for a couple of days to clear my mind.

The dinner table atmosphere was awkward, especially when Eason mentioned it was his first time.

My guilt reached its peak.

But I couldn’t help but think silently.

It was my first time too.

“I… I saw some blood on the couch cover this morning. Did I hurt you?”

At that moment, I felt all the blood rush to my face. “Let’s not discuss this any further.”

I raised my voice, trying to stop him from continuing.

The small apartment felt even more suffocating, and all I wanted was to find a hole to crawl into.

Ring-ring…

The doorbell rang, cutting through the awkward silence.

It was Luther Nash, my ex-boyfriend, who came to beg for another chance.

Seeing him again, after all we’d been through, made me want to yell at him, but I couldn’t get the words out.

Luther pleaded, saying he didn’t want to break up and was trying to make amends.

I stared at his sincere face. It was the same face that had deceived me so completely before.

“Just go. Don’t come back. Let’s end things on good terms.” This was probably the most generous I could be.

But as I tried to shut the door, Luther pushed his way in and saw Eason.

“No wonder you wanted to break up so quickly. You’ve already moved on! Were you seeing him behind my back?”

I was shocked by his nerve.

The angrier and more frustrated I felt, the more I struggled to find the right words. I ended up fuming, only to get even more upset afterward as I replayed the encounter in my mind.

“Get out!” I pointed to the door.

But after spotting Eason, Luther shamelessly added, “I’ve slept with men before, and now you’ve done the same. We’re even, right? You should be satisfied.”

I couldn’t believe I’d ever been with such a jerk!

I was so furious I felt like I might explode. “You…”

Bang!

Eason's punch came out of nowhere, landing with a brutal force.

His aggression was shocking, a stark contrast to the gentle demeanor he’d shown me.

I was momentarily stunned by his fierceness, and only when Luther was crying out in pain did I snap out of it and grab Eason's arm.

Eason shot me a quick look before dragging the incapacitated Luther out of the room as if he were trash.

For a moment, I was more impressed by his strength than shocked by his violence.

He’s really strong.

After letting off his steam, Eason’s demeanor softened back to his usual calm self. “Men who stray can’t be trusted. They might bring diseases.”

I slumped onto the sofa, feeling defeated. “It seems rare to find a man who doesn’t stray. Even in places like schools, where you’d think there’d be higher standards, there are male teachers who do.”

As soon as I finished speaking, Eason started rummaging through his backpack. “What are you looking for?”

Before I could finish my question, he pulled out a medical report.

For some reason, my eyelids twitched.

It was Eason’s health report, including tests for sexually transmitted infections and genetic screenings, right at the top.

He said, “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

I admit, at that moment, I might have lost my mind. Otherwise, why would I have asked, “So you’re not going to stray in the future? You’ll be faithful to just me?”

How could I ask something like that when we don’t even have a real relationship?

I felt like I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

“From now on, I won’t be with anyone else,” Eason said.

His answer left me momentarily speechless. “Viola, your face is so red.”

Eason stepped closer, so close that there was barely an inch between us. When I tilted my head up slightly, I could see his Adam’s apple moving.

There were no more words, but the air felt heavy and charged.

It was as if I was being pulled in.

As he leaned in, I felt something inside me snap, and I was frozen, watching him intently.

His lips brushed against mine, but at the last moment, he suddenly rested his chin on my shoulder, his ears turning red.

In a low, husky voice, he murmured, “Don’t look at me like that, Viola.”

…

After that night, my relationship with Eason was in this vague, unspoken limbo.

One evening, we were snuggled on the couch, watching a movie. I picked something at random without much thought.

On the projector, the characters started getting more intimate, their soft moans filling the quiet room, making everything feel oddly charged.

I used the excuse of needing to use the bathroom but ended up bumping into Eason's chest as he stood up abruptly.

His eyes seemed deeper, more intense.

“You...”

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” I said, and quickly went in.

As I closed the door, I glanced back and saw Eason’s ears were red, his eyes cast down, focused on something.

Later, around ten, I was lying in bed, restless and unable to sleep.

With my mind racing, I was sweating despite the covers.

I decided to get up for another shower.

As I opened the bathroom door, I saw Eason coming out.

Before I could say anything, he said, “It’s a bit warm in here, so I took a shower.”

I just said, “Oh,” and went inside.

When I turned on the shower, the cold water hit me hard, making me gasp.

Is he really turning the water down to freezing?

…

The next day, I was inevitably late for work.

The whole day, I was distracted, my mind constantly circling back to thoughts of Eason. I felt like something was off with me, and there was a strange itch I couldn't quite scratch.

It seemed I must have gone a little crazy to be so drawn to my best friend Demi's younger brother. Otherwise, why would I be feeling this way?

Well, if it comes to it and I end up marrying Eason, I could always forgo asking Demi for a wedding gift.

As I was lost in thought, a colleague walked in and said, “Miss Green, your boyfriend is waiting for you at the school gate.”

I almost instinctively thought it was Eason.

With a mix of hope and urgency, I rushed outside.

But when I saw Luther, I realized just how mistaken I had been.

Eason and I hadn’t even defined our relationship. So how could Luther claim to be my boyfriend?

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

Ignoring my irritation, Luther grabbed my hand and tried to pull me towards his car.

I raised my hand to slap him, but he pushed me against the car, saying, “If you don’t want your colleagues to find out how messy your private life is, including your involvement with a U of T boy, get in the car now!”

I thought he must be out of his mind. “Have you lost your mind? If you’re going to make wild accusations, at least make them believable.”

The one with the messed-up private life was clearly him!

I’m a teacher—I have at least some moral standards.

Luther sneered, “Demi’s brother is only seventeen. You think if this news gets out, you’ll be able to keep your position in the school system?”

I was stunned. “That can’t be true.”

How could he be just seventeen? He’s so tall and strong. How could that be?

Then I remembered those viral posts online about people who bravely asked for a guy’s contact info only to find out he was wearing a child’s watch.

With today’s nutrition, many kids were tall enough that their real age wasn’t obvious from their appearance.

My face went pale.

I had never asked Eason about his age.

“If we get back together, no matter what happened between you and him, I’ll pretend I don’t know,” Luther said, pulling me into an embrace and kissing me like a madman.