“Shush... it‘s all going to be ok“, she crooned stroking his hair as though he was a scared child. He let out another sigh and sat up properly. His mind was made up.
“Will you come with me?“, he enquired over the throbbing in his head. All he knew now was that the proximity, the scent of her, the softness, the crooning, all her actions... Her very nature and response to him was provoking him to some height he himself could not understand.
“Ok... But where to?“, she asked, her hand placed over his on the grass, her thumb tracing circles on the smooth upper part of his calloused hands. “To my room darling. Come with me, won‘t you? I need to lie down properly but I don‘t want to be alone.“
Startled, she pulled back. Through the haze which was starting to clear in his mind, he caught both her wrists and pulled her hands to his face and nuzzled them.
“Please.“
“I... ok. But I‘ll leave once you are asleep.“
“Ok.“
They walked back to the apartment building and made their way to his studio holding hands like teenage lovers. When in fact, they were mere...friends?
Doubts aside, she let herself be led into the modest studio. There was a neat bed in the corner near the single huge french window and a messy but fully equipped kitchenette to the side. The other side had a door which she presumed was the bathroom and a small television set sat on a table near the foot of the bed. It was a seemingly welcoming room with its pale yellow walls with pretty pictures put up creatively on the bare bits of wall. The other colour and the only piece of luxury in the room was a bright fluffy red rug which was placed prominently in the centre of the studio.
He put his hand on her lower back and gently pushed her towards his bed. He turned, locked his door, debating what to do. The hangover was still there, clouding his mind. But he knew for certain what he wanted now... and it was something only she could give.
She sat, unnerved, on a corner of his bed. She wordlessly watched him bolt the door and pause a moment too much with his back to her. A strange feeling of foreboding rose in her chest.
Something didn‘t feel right.
He went to his little kitchen counter and started making coffee. Ignoring what was pulling him like a steel pin to a magnet, her. And sitting on his bed, no less.
“Coffee?“
“Yes. Thank you.“
“How much sugar?“
“I‘ll put it myself.“
She moved to the counter and took the sugar tin from his hand. His face was grim. Measuring out her one and a half teaspoon of sugar, she asked,“What‘s wrong?“
“Nothing. Leave that.“
“But you don‘t look like it‘s nothing.“
“It doesn‘t matter ok?!“, his rough tone vibrated with slightly withheld menace. She trembled to the core at the dangerous note and moved away with dignity, holding up a steaming mug of coffee in front of her like a defense.
She turned away. He turned away. ‘This was a bad idea. A very bad idea‘, he worried. The haze in his mind was clearing and the desire in him was growing stronger and stronger.
She faced the wall, her eyes writ with shock... and fear. What if he hurt her? She should have never come alone to his room. She had always come with their gang of friends, never alone. No one would know if something went wrong. Their friends would just assume they went somewhere together... After all they were together most of the time these days.
He glanced behind him, gripping the counter top. The throbbing in his head returned with full force. He glanced at her and then at the bed.
Then at her again. His resolve made, he went and stood behind her.
