Emily let out a sleepy yawn as she slowly woke up, her body stretching naturally as she tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. However, something felt different. As her eyes adjusted to the surroundings, she realized she was lying in Ethan's bed, dressed in pyjamas. Panic crept into her mind as she wondered how she had ended up here, in his room, let alone his bed.
Confused and slightly disoriented, Emily looked around, trying to piece together the puzzle of her current situation. Her gaze fell on a handwritten letter on the nightstand, and she quickly reached for it. The note was unmistakably from Ethan, written in his distinct handwriting.
"Everything is small, not up to my taste," the note read, but it continued, "But don't worry, I didn't touch anything."
Emily's anger flared up as she imagined Ethan's smug expression while writing that note. She clenched her teeth, feeling a mix of irritation and frustration. "That bastard," she muttered under her breath, knowing full well that he had orchestrated this situation to infuriate her.