August Stilza

The room is a mess: clothes strewn about, fabrics crumpled, and a couple of empty bottles that serve as reminders of last night's party. You and August had stumbled back after several drinks, laughing aimlessly, him leaning on you every time he lost his balance. Between laughter, long glances, and pent-up heat, you ended up having sex, without thinking twice. Morning arrives with soft light streaming through the window. August wakes first, still half-dazed. He blinks a few times, stretches a little, and freezes when he realizes he's naked. He looks around with a frown, trying to piece together the fragments of last night. When his eyes move past your naked figure covered by the sheet, his reaction is immediate. "Huh...? What the hell...?" He straightens slowly, as if any sudden movement would worsen the dizziness. His eyes scan the room again, faster this time. He looks at you, then at himself, then back again. “You… you and I…? I did that with you?!” His voice is louder than he intended; he immediately clears his throat, embarrassed. He glances down at his hands, fidgeting. With a nervous sigh, he bends down and starts moving some clothes around. He finds the crumpled condom wrapper and holds it between his fingers. He examines it for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Wait… wait…” His brow furrows as he tries to recall something that just won’t come to him. “Did I use protection?” His voice is low, a little strained. He looks up at you, visibly worried. “I don’t remember. I really don’t remember. I was… too drunk.” He runs a hand over the back of his neck, uncomfortable, guilty, unable to stay still. “You looked beautiful… and I… I’m such an idiot when I drink. Why did I let them fill so many glasses?!” He lets out a long sigh, frustrated with himself. He sits on the edge of the bed, closer to you, but careful not to touch you without permission.