Chapter Text
the walk to her room never seemed to end. it’s like having him next to her isn’t enough, she needs him in her skin. when they reached the elevator she was still feeling dizzy. the doors opened and they stepped in. alya lost her balance for a quiet moment but as the human he is cihan caught her by the waist with a single arm. alya chuckled.
“komik olan ne?” (what’s so funny?) cihan prompted.
“sence de içinde bulunduğumuz durum biraz komik değil mi?” (don’t you think this whole thing is a little hilarious?)
cihan didn’t say a word. he kept looking in her eyes instead. the elevator stopped with a ding and they headed out.
“bu sefer taşımayacak mısın beni?” (you’re not gonna carry me this time?) alya asked with a slow chuckle. cihan didn’t respond this time either. he followed her lead to the room instead. what was waiting for them behind that door? he was self-assured up until now. alya scanned the room key and pushed the door open, cihan followed suit.
the room was larger than he thought. wasn’t she going to stay a night only? why was the bed queen sized? was she waiting for someone? was that someone not him? he kept walking till he found an armchair by the corner, next to the comically huge bed and waited for alya’s next move. to his no surprise she immediately went for the mini fridge, fishing for more alcohol to quiet her racing mind. he got up and went over to her. alya was standing up with a bottle of fancy white wine and a single glass in hand when she felt cihan behind her.
“artık içme alya.” (please stop drinking alya.)
“boşver bunları şimdi de sen benimle ne konuşmak istiyordun?” (don’t mind that now, what did you want to talk with me that couldn’t wait?) she asked. cihan made his way back to the armchair as she opened the bottle and poured a generous amount into the glass.
“ben mi seninle konuşmak istiyordum?” (am i the one who wanted to talk?) he asked.
“e tabii, ben değilim senin peşinden gelip eğlencesini bölen.” (duh, i’m not the one who came after you and disrupted your fun.)
“onu mu dedim alya…” (did i mean that alya-) he sighed out, looking towards his own lap. what was he doing here seriously? alya always managed to distract him and now she was casually sipping from her drink, sitting on the bed. why did he come here? to apologize?
“ben özür dilerim alya. gerçekten bilmiyordum. mine’nin benden böyle bir şey saklayabileceğini…” (i’m sorry alya. i really didn’t know that mine could hide something like this from me…)
“of cihan yeter artık. bunları duymak istemiyorum, umrumda değil artık. ne sen ne mine-” (ugh cihan that’s enough. i don’t wanna hear all this. i don’t care anymore. not about you or mine-)
cihan cut him off “eğer umrunda değilse niye kaçtın?” (if you don’t care why did you run away?)
“umrunda değilse beni neden öptün cihan?” (if you don’t care then why did you kiss me cihan?)
“ben umrumda olmadığını söylemedim.” (i never said i didn’t care.) cihan said, sitting up straight.
“he yani benim için dertleniyorsun.” (oh so you do mind about me.) alya smirked. cihan stayed silent, never taking her gaze off of her dark brown eyes. the lines near her eyes squinted as she kept smiling. “o zaman neden yalan söyledin?” (then why did you lie?) she asked.
“yalan söylemedim alya dedim ya, bilmiyordum.” (i didn’t lie alya, i told you i didn’t know.) his patience was running out. he didn’t have the energy for her games and this was all new territory. what were they doing in a hotel room at such an hour? “hem madem o kadar aldırmıyorsun neden bu konuya bu kadar takıldın?” (also if it’s none of your business then why do you keep asking the same things?)
alya got up from her spot on the bed and started walking towards him. his mouth dried cause of all the possibilities. silently and smoothly she spread her legs and sat on his vacant lap on the armchair, her knees to each side of his thighs. she didn’t put all of her weight on top of him, not just yet. she waited for his reaction as he tried to register what she was doing to him. he took a deep breath as his nostrils inflated and his hands tried to find a place to land. he decided on his own chest and looked up at her, sipping from her almost empty glass.
“n’apıyorsun alya?” (what are you doing alya?)
“itiraf et, bunu her şeyden çok istiyorsun.” (just say it cihan, you want this more than anything.) she whispered as one of her hands held his hand on his chest.
“artık içme şunu alya, çok sarhoşsun.” (don’t drink from that anymore alya, you’re too drunk already.)
“ben gayet ayığım cihan, hatta sen biraz iç bence.” (i’m all sober cihan, i even think you should drink now.) alya said as one of her hands found his stubbled chin and tried to open his mouth open. cihan resisted at first but alya was tilting the glass. he was either going to let her or get wine spilled on both of them. so he opened his mouth a little and let alya pour the drink onto his tongue. the wine was warm, everything was surreal. what was he letting this woman do to him? it was like a spell that he was willingly under. when alya stopped he took the glass from her hands swiftly, put it away and motioned for her to get up.
“bu kadar yeter alya. kalk üstümden, çok saçma bu.” (that’s enough alya, get off me, this makes no sense.)
alya didn’t make any efforts on getting up but didn’t hesitate on grinding further into his lap. “senin sevdiğin bir saçmalık ama.” (it’s a nonsense you love though.)
that’s where he drew the line. if she was so passionate in this drunk capade of hers, he could play this game very well.
“sen üstümdeyken kalkamayacağımı mı sanıyorsun?” (you think i can’t get up with you on me?)