This part is super short but the next chapter is so worth the wait :) Dedicated to Jellakins!
Sam sticks to his word and we have eggs and soldiers for tea. I add Bovril to my toast, which Vince thinks is gross, but the meal passes with light conversation which, for the first time since I've been here, isn't loaded down with Sam's glare.
He eats in silence, occasionally joining in with the chatter, but I'm just glad that he's not trying to phase me out. It's nice to feel like I'm not being scrutinised from behind a magazine or over the rim of a mug.
We all watch a so-so comedy film before heading to bed. It's quarter to eleven when I change into my pyjamas. I pull on my reading glasses, intending to read a book to ease myself to sleep. The trolley incident from earlier is still playing on my mind. I know Sam's cute when he's not frowning at me, but something about the way I'd ended up flush against him, my hands flat on his chest, feeling the way his heart was pounding, has made something stir inside of me.
I shake my head and reach down towards my duffel bag, freezing mid-grab when I spot something moving. I stifle my scream into my fist, not wanting to wake anyone and have to explain that I'd freaked out at a spider. This isn't just any spider though. It's big and black and hairy and completely terrifying. I retreat to the other side of the room, curling my toes into the carpet in disgust.
It moves and I recoil again, my eyes flitting to the door. Without another thought I snatch up my hoody and sprint out into the lounge. It's dark. The turquoise curtains are drawn, blocking out the streetlights that I know are shining on the roads below. I can't hear anything coming from Vince and Ollie's room but an orange glow catches my eye and I turn to see a slither of light shining out from underneath Sam's bedroom door.
I don't know what to do. I shift on the spot, watching my own door to make sure that the spider isn't following me. I could sleep on one of the huge leather sofas, using a fleece blanket from the pile under the coffee table, but the thought of the spider makes me move towards Sam's door. It's stupid, to think that he's going to let me share his room. His bed. A warm shudder makes me bite my lip and clutch my stomach. What the hell am I doing?
"Sam," I whisper into the quiet room. I don't expect an answer and when I don't get one I move closer to his door, hovering on the carpet that's emblazed with light. "Sam?"
I can hear movement and I fidget again, my heart thudding hard as I try to work up the courage to knock on his door. I raise a hand and draw in a deep breath. Do it!
YOU ARE READING
Sketch
RomanceEighteen year old Emmy Porter doesn't know what to do with her life. Fresh out of education, she's got the world at her feet, but isn't sure what to make of all the freedom. Emmy's sister, however, has got it all mapped out. This week she wants t...
