Will We Talk? ~ A PG10 Short Story

9. When I say I love U I mean it

"Because I'm a guest." I say simply, swallowing heavily as Pierre edges a little closer to me. "I think we should just have some space. At least for a little while, tonight has been intense and..." I lose my words. A small smile falls onto his lips.

"And?"

"A lot. I just- i just I need to process." I'm speaking quickly, the nerves getting to me a little.

"You can't process here?" Pierre asks clearly still a little confused by my hesitance.

I lick my lips thinking over my words before I say them. 'Fuck no!' Doesn't quite seem like the correct response to that question, despite it being my internal reaction. "It doesn't seem wise to." Is what I say instead. The words don't seem to offend Pierre this way, he simply takes them in and think about them for a second with a simple 'Hm'.

"You know this is technically a guest room since I'm a guest too." He points out. This time I raise my eyebrows at him.

"It's your Mum's house, which you paid for. I don't think you make the guest list cut!" The seriousness which he said his previous words has me smiling as I speak.

"Yeah so..." Pierre pauses before clearing his throat. "as I was saying, as the owner of this house, I know this is a guest room."

"That's not what you were saying at all!" I point out laughing slightly. My hand reaches out to shove his shoulder playfully.

"Shut up." He urges looking at me with a grin. It makes my heart swell. "This is the guest room El. Take it, get an Uber home or have the floor outside." He's smiling as he says the words and whilst I know he would never let me take the floor I nod my head a little and go to take my sweater off. It looks like I'm staying here, it's not worth more of a fight. My keys jingle from within the pockets as I fold it up and place it on the floor. It's all very polite and awkward when we're not joking with each other.

"Fine." I huff in defeat, but really I'm happy for the fight he showed to keep me here. Pierre is still smiling, as if proud of himself and my stomach is doing that strange wobbly thing that makes me feel all off balance when I'm around him. It's not helped by the way I catch his stare lingering a little too long on me. I hug my arms around my body, as if the movement will hide my whole existence from him.

"Go ahead, I'll be a minute." Pierre instructs gesturing to the bed. He stifles a yawn shortly after speaking and reaches for the door, shuffling out of it. His absence let's me exhale a breathe I didn't even know I was holding. His disappearance allows me to take my bra off and turn my phone onto do not disturb. I almost text Jasmine to let her know where I am, but decide not to since I don't know how long Pierre will be and, well...it's 2am. She won't see it anyway.

I crawl over the bed to the side by the window (it's always been my side), peel back the covers and slot myself under them awkwardly sitting like a child waiting to be tucked in. "What am I even doing?" I whisper to myself. What even is this?

I assume this is still my side, it always used to be whenever I would stay over in time gone by.

With it being by the window I liked that it was a little cooler than the other side of the bed, and if I was too hot in the night I could always reach out and press my hand up against the icy wall. Meanwhile, Pierre preferred the right side of the bed in the middle of the room because it meant the light didn't shine through the bottom of his curtains in the morning and wake him up.

I find it weird that this room is set up the same as his old one. Same sports posters and memorabilia, same pictures and the bed pushed in the same position. Sure the room is a little bigger but it's not overly noticeable. If it wasn't for the outside, anybody who wasn't too familiar with Pierre's old room would think this is exactly the same. I wonder why? I make a mental note to ask him next time we find ourselves in awkward silence, which at the moment is a lot of the time.