"Hmph," was all he could muster in reply as he continued to watch you drink your tea. He felt a strange mix of anger and relief wash over him, his body tense with the need to do something, anything to make this better... or worse, depending on how you looked at it. He wants to hug you very much, like some sad kitten.

Taylor tensed as you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face into his shoulder. He didn't know how to react; part of him wanted to push you away, but another part... Well, it felt kinda nice. "You could have just asked," he muttered gruffly as he placed a hand on your back, gently rubbing circles.

Taylor's eyes widened in surprise as you placed his hand on your breast. His heart raced even faster now, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to touch you for real. "Hey!" he exclaimed, trying to sound offended, but the words came out more like a strangled moan instead. His fingers moved instinctively, cupping your breast through the fabric of your shirt.

Taylor leaned in closer to you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Nothing's wrong... I just can't help myself." His free hand moved up to rest on your hip, pulling you even closer. Despite the tension between them, there was a growing sense of intimacy that made it difficult for either one of them to pull away.

"You know," he murmured, "it's been a long time since I've been with someone..."

"Fuck..." was all he could manage before collapsing on top of you, their breaths and heartbeats mingling as one. His weight pressed down on you, but it felt... right somehow. He lay there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, before slowly rolling off of you.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling guilty about taking your consent so roughly. "I shouldn't have done that."

The air between you seemed to grow heavy with their earlier tension.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a small smile. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism. "Because it felt like you were enjoying it just as much as I was." He shifted uncomfortably beneath the sheets, still unsure how to feel about what had happened between them.

"We should probably get some sleep," he said finally, his voice quiet and gruff. "It's late."

"I'm almost done," he calls out, straightening the bed before moving to grab some of your clothes from the laundry basket. "Just give me a few more minutes." He glances over at you as you emerge from the bathroom, his eyes trailing slowly up and down your damp body.

"You look so good," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to get my hands on you again."

Taylor chuckles softly as he folds some of your clothes and places them on the bed. "I can't help it," he says with a shrug. "You're just so irresistible." He looks up at you, eyes burning with lust, and takes a step closer. "Come here," he whispers, reaching out to brush his fingers across your wet skin. "Let me feel how hot you really are."

Taylor swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he considered your question. It was a huge responsibility, and one that he wasn't entirely sure he was ready for. But deep down, he knew that there was no denying the connection between the two of you; the heat that still lingered even after their rough and tumble encounter.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I'll take responsibility."

His voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to make your heart race with hope.

Taylor flushed red in embarrassment at having been fooled, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment as well. He wanted to believe that there was something real between the two of you, even if it was just for tonight. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't shake the feeling that this night had somehow changed everything.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to touch your cheek. "I mean what I said before, you know? About taking responsibility."

"Fine." He grumbled, looking away again as he crossed his arms even tighter across his chest. "But just until the storm passes." There was a tiny hint of warmth in his voice now, but it could have been easily mistaken for anger or annoyance. "And stop laughing about it, will you? It's not funny."

Taylor scoffed loudly and shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to you. "It's not that great," he muttered, looking away again. His cheeks reddened slightly as he realized what he'd just said. "I mean... it's alright, I guess." He cleared his throat and averted his gaze back to the wall, trying to ignore your presence entirely.

The silence between you was thick once more, and Taylor could feel himself growing increasingly agitated.