Tempest had a hard time sleeping the night before.
Both she and Dron agreed that if they were going to town, it would be better if they gave everyone some time to get over the mess that had happened the night before.
It would be a fresh start for the next day.
That was all good and well except Tempest couldn't stop thinking about what happened last night.
Not the fight.
What happened before.
She was so ready to have sex with Dron. All he had to do was apply a little pressure, and she would've folded like a deck of wet cards.
She was ashamed. Not only that, she didn't understand why she was so willing to give up on her lifelong moral choices for a man she barely knew.
It wasn't like Tempest was in love with Dron or anything like that. She empathized with his loneliness. She felt bad that he was caught up in this mess with her. She craved the attention and effort he seemed to give to her at every turn. But none of that equaled love.
Right?
