The morning light filtered through the cracks in the treehouse, casting a soft glow over the two figures entwined in sleep. Zahir was the first to wake, his eyes slowly focusing on the unfamiliar surroundings. He blinked, the events of the previous night flooding back to him. His arm was wrapped around Emily, their bodies pressed together for warmth, their clothes scattered around them.
Zahir’s heart raced as he looked down at Emily, still asleep, her hair tousled and her expression peaceful. He felt a mix of emotions — confusion, regret, and a lingering desire that he couldn’t quite shake off. But before he could dwell on it, Emily stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
Emily quickly realised the situation. Her face flushed as she noticed their dishevelled state, the remnants of their heated encounter evident. She sat up abruptly, pulling away from Zahir and reaching for her clothes.
