Jesus Christ.
Hair wrecked. Lips swollen. Eyes glassy. Shirt splattered with cum. Face flushed so red I looked sunburned.
I splashed water on my face.
It didn't help.
I straightened my jacket as best I could.
Tugged the lapels forward to hide the worst of the mess.
Took a deep breath.
I splashed my face again and again, the icy water a shock to my system. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was beyond ashamed but my eyes were wide and dark with a hunger I couldn't admit to.
"He's just a person," I told my reflection.
"He's just Cassian. You're fine."
But the mirror lied. I wasn't fine. I was a disaster.
I couldn't go back in there yet. The air in the ballroom was too thick with him. I needed space.
I began to wander the corridors of the Llotja de Mar, letting the grand, silent architecture calm my nerves. The marble columns and intricate crown moldings gave me something objective to focus on.
