The way we both knew when to stop and not take things too quickly was just so relieving to me. He didn't force anything on me. He apologized earlier for making me uncomfortable, even though when things progressed I realized how comfortable I was around him in reality.

We just continued walking and talking about things that had nothing to do with the kiss. The only thing giving us away was us being giggly and different from our usual selves.

We kind of acted like teenagers, but the reason behind it was that we both understood that talking about it before the trip would actually ruin the whole experience and make it weird. So even though we didn't have a conversation about it, deep down we both knew that we'd talk about it after the trip.

"We should head back, it's 2 a.m." As much as I enjoyed the walk, we still had a long day coming.

"Ah fuck I have so much to do tomorrow," he scrunched up his nose from realization, "have to take Patches to my mom's place, drive to your place so you can pack and haven't packed yet myself."

It amazed me how structured and planned everything was inside his head. Honestly I forgot that I haven't packed, and now that he mentioned it, I realized that staying up until 2 a.m. in the streets before the flight to which we weren't even prepared wasn't a good idea.

So our little fairytale didn't last for long, as we got home with the feeling you used to get on Sunday nights before a school day.

Clay pushed the key inside the door that we locked just in case (considering that Nick was home alone asleep, and we were in Florida). He then pushed it open ever so carefully, in a way that it didn't make a single creek. We tip-toed while holding our breaths, relieved to hear Nick snoring softly.

And it seemed like we succeeded. Until we heard aggressive purring and saw two yellow eyes shining in the dark.

"Patches no." Clay whispered, making less sound while talking than the cat that was just purring.

Right after his words, Patches let out the loudest meowing sound. Like she was holding it for years.

"Patches-" Clay kneeled and tried to lift the cat up so he could take her to the room.

She fought back, hissing and meowing even louder. I tried to handle her myself, reaching out to grab her but she just scratched me and jumped on a higher surface, continuing her meowing session.

Nick's snoring got quieter and quieter over time, and Clay knew that it was time for us to flee from the crime scene. Instead of trying to calm the cat, he grabbed my wrist and took me to the bedroom quickly, starting to take off his jacket and shoes as we reached the destined place.

Our goal here was to pretend that we'd been asleep all along.

"C'mon, undress!" He whispered in a demanding voice, making me take off my jacket and shoes as well.

We threw them in the corner of the room, before pushing Clay's pillow down to the floor and trying to make it look like he slept there.

"Do I need to take these off!?" I was trying to whisper while pointing at my sweater and jeans when I saw him in the darkness peeling his clothes off his body.

"You haven't yet!?" I knew he was shouting even though he was whispering.

It did make sense. If Nick was to come here, he'd probably wake us up. And getting out of the bed fully clothed wouldn't be ideal.

So I started undoing the small buttons of my jeans that actually went all the way up to my belly button. Why did I wear this-

As I was working on the buttons, we kept hearing Patches repeatedly meowing and making random noises. She probably even broke something.

And then we heard something that wasn't really welcomed. Nick groaning "what the fuck", followed by him turning the living-room lights on.

My fingers started shaking from adrenaline rush, and before I knew, I felt Clay's fingers closing around the hem of my sweater and pulling it off of me momentarily.

The next thing was him pulling the two pieces of fabric of my jeans (that were attached by the buttons) apart, undoing them by force instead of taking his time to undo them properly.

I wiggled my way out of the tight fabric and jumped in the bed, wearing only the shirt that was under my sweater, underwear and socks. And Clay made himself comfortable on the floor, probably only in his boxers and socks. I couldn't pay attention from stress, but knew for a fact that he was shirtless and remembered him taking off his pants.

Under the covers the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat and heavy breathing. Nick was still trying to manage the situation by himself, telling Patches to shut up as if it was going to work.

And I actually think Patches went even more crazy because he turned the lights on, and she wasn't used to seeing Nick around, which only made her more stressed.

"He's gonna give my cat a heart attack." Clay whispered. I could hear the pain in his voice.

And after hearing a lot of meowing and yelling, we finally heard Nick's footsteps getting close to the bedroom. A few more seconds and he pushed the door open.

"Dude, wake up," his voice was higher than a whisper, "your cat's going nuts."