Who the Fuck is Alex Turner?

The Part With the Shower

Alex’s eyelids were puffy in the morning. He rubbed the sleep out of them groggily, us both still on the couch we’d fallen asleep on the previous evening. There was no doubt I had a swollen face too, but I was so filled with indifference that I did nought but yawn. I scrunched my eyes up, stretching my arms out behind and over my head and pushing my chest out. My body was stiff from sleep and as I bent my spine backwards and inwards I could feel it begin to loosen.

Alex smiled at me tiredly. He looked utterly exhausted, slumped over next to me. In fact, it seemed as if at any moment he’d drift back into sleep. He didn’t though, widening his eyes briefly to shake off the haze of drowsiness. I didn’t bother asking, just went straight to the cupboard and began preparing coffee for the both of us. The aroma of it wafting up into my nostrils made me feel instantly more alert.

Before long I was bringing Alex his mug of morning caffeine. He thanked me for it quietly, his voice muffled as he dove straight in for a sip. I took small mouthfuls of mine. I enjoyed drinking my coffee slowly. Alex, on the other hand was wolfing his down, gulping loudly as I watched him.

His hair was a tousled mop of shaggy, crooked tufts poking out at untidy angles. Above his forehead his hair had stuck up revealing the corners of his face his long locks always seemed to hide. He must have slept with his face buried in the cushions. His eyebrows were all messed up, and I gently straightened them with my fingers, releasing a soft chuckle as I did so. Alex looked up at me, hiding his smile with a cringe.

“Not a morning person Alex?”

“‘fraid not,” he mumbled, finishing off his coffee and placing the mug on the coffee table.

I ruffled my hand through his hair, placing a short, sweet kiss on his forehead. His face was warm. He was always warm- his hands never cold. He smiled back lovingly.

The air felt different, almost damp. I approached the windows, ripping the curtains open and expecting blinding rays of morning sun to shine through. The sky outside, however, was a clouded, melancholic grey. The rooftops of the adjacent houses appeared slippery and wet and the trees glistened with dripping leaves. It’d rained, I realised. It seemed that the rain had subsided now, but you could never trust the weather here.

I pulled the curtains closed again, feeling as if ignoring the rain was the most uplifting approach to beginning the day. Alex was staring into space, his eyes plastered on the wall, unmoving. I found my phone and checked it. A sickly mixture of unease and concern welled up in me when I saw that I had not even one message or missed call. Last night had been rough, yet nothing had been said. I left the device on the counter and returned to Alex.

I stood behind him, leaning over the couch with my arms over his shoulders, hugging him. I nestled my face into his neck, feeling his rough growth of stubble itch my cheek. We were both content for a moment, him leaning into me and me into him. With my eyes closed, I murmured against him, “I’m having a shower. Interested in joining?”

“Very,” he whispered back softly. I ran my hands over his chest, kissing his ear.

“Well then, I’ll be waiting for you.”

*** 

As we sat together eating breakfast, the buttery scent of toasted bread wafting throughout the house, I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. Nor could I remove the image of Alex- dripping locks of hair hanging down over his face, the hard rise and fall of his chest as he panted, his eyes pressed shut as he moaned- from my mind. When Alex had lifted me up, pinning me against the steamy glass, the imprint of my body had been left behind; little clear patches the shape of my ass and back amongst the condensation.The image of his body, naked and glistening, powerful yet gentle, made me euphoric.