How did it end up like this?

Was it the wine?

The small talks we had as a way to fill the silence between us?

Or the way his voice dropped lower with every word he speaks, threading through the air until it wrapped around me like silk?

After a few minutes, my mind had finally registered what was actually happening, but by that point, it was already too late.

Arlo’s hands were latched firmly onto my wrists as if to anchor them both, pinning them above my head and against the wall.

I can tell that I was blushing fiercely by the way he smirked after seeing my face,...