Letters to Juliet

In The Dark

My arm reached out, feeling around the outside of the shower, searching for a towel.  My fingers landed upon the plush feeling that could only be the feeling of a towel.  Grabbing it, I quickly switched the shower’s water off.  The heat quickly left me, causing a slight shiver to grip me.  

I swiftly wrapped the baby-blue towel around me, enjoying its softness and newfound protection from the chilled air.  Bundling the towel around my mid-section, and rechecking that everything was covered, I prepared myself to open the door and walk into Jarred’s room.  Should I knock to make sure he’s decent?  No, that looks stupid.

“Uhh, Jarred?” I called, as I slowly opened the bathroom door, prepared to close it at any moment.

“Yeah?” came his strong, deep voice.  

Reassured, I opened the door to its full potential.  “Ah!” I gasped, clasping a hand to my eyes.  Jarred’s hair was damp, clusters of water beginning to group before falling onto his chest.  His bare chest.  Not to mention, he was only wearing deep green boxers.

“What?”

“What?!” I exclaimed, mystified.  “What is that you--you’re not wearing clothes!  Why didn’t you warn me before I came out of the bathroom?”

“I’m only not wearing a shirt.  My boxers are just like swim trunks, which you’ve already seen me in and didn’t have a problem with them then.”

“Th--That’s different,” I stuttered, still holding my hand to my eyes.

“Sure it is.”  I didn’t have to have my eyes open to know that he was smiling.

“Well, I’m not looking at you until you put some clothes on.”  Shifting my body, I attempted to form a stance that seemed defiant.

Apparently it didn’t work on Jarred.  “This may get to become a long night for you, then.”

Exasperated, I said, “Just put clothes on, Jarred!”

“Fine,” he mumbled.  There was a rustling, which I’m assuming was him grabbing his shirt and pants.  After only a few seconds, he continued, “Okay, open.”

My hand was growing tired anyways, so I let it fall easily away from my eyes.  Within my sight I saw that Jarred had put on a shirt--but no pants.  Sending him a glare, I decided it really wasn’t worth it to be arguing with him all night about it.  Pretty soon we’d be asleep, then it’d be morning, and I’d be gone.  “Sure, clothes,” I emphasized, gesturing towards his person. 

“I wouldn’t be talking, missy.”  His lips quirked into a smile.

This only caused my glare to intensify.  “And why’s that?”

His eyebrows shot up a little, his smile brightening.  “Because, you, my dear, are only wearing a,” he paused, “towel.”

Suddenly self-conscious, I pulled my arms around my top.  “And whose fault is that?  I don’t remember willingly jumping into your pool.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.”  He moved towards me, causing my recently discovered near-nakedness to become even more apparent.  “To remind you.”

My brain was so caught up in the tension within my body and his approach that I completely lost what he said.  “Well,” I unsuredly began, “uh, how about some clothes?”  After I’d already said my response, I realized how scatterbrained I was.  

Jarred seemed to grasp this as well, because the smile never left his face.  “Sure.”  The distance between us became greater as he walked back over to his closet, and started rummaging through it.  He gingerly picked up a loose, faded gray t-shirt along with some very baggy sweat pants in the same matching shade of gray.  He came over to wear I was standing, one hand now by the towel, as if for protection.