room thirteen | stuart twombly

11 | the stuart thing

After a full minute, Bree asked again, "So which is it?"

"Which is what?"

Bree opened her mouth to speak when an incessant ringing sprang through the air, startling both of them. Stuart blinked several times as if to try and snap himself out of a daze, belatedly realizing that the sound was coming from his phone. 

Hastily patting around his pockets, he fished his phone out before checking the caller ID. "It's Nick," he told her before bringing it up to his ear, his posture stiff. "I have to take this."

A second went by before Bree nodded, albeit hesitantly. She sat still while waiting, her breaths eventually coming out even and her headache less insistent. The early morning was dark and quiet, interrupted only by the faint sound of Stuart's side of the conversation.

Bree didn't know how many minutes went by when she slowly begun to doze off, but she had only bothered to look up when Stuart was crouched right in front of her. He must have called her a few times already because his eyebrows were scrunched together in a familiar Stuart fashion, impatient with the way he was already frowning at her.

"Nick wants to meet up for the app," Stuart said without wasting any time. "We have to get you back to the dorm before I leave."

This was enough to catch Bree's full attention. She sat up a little straighter and tried to make sense of what he just said. "What's going on?"

"Nick and Billy are in Lyle's apartment right now," he said, suddenly avoiding her gaze. "Nick has this crazy idea for the app after something Lyle said. It's honestly not what I would have decided on, but it's doable with the little time we have left, so we're making the draft in an hour. We can start coding around 7, give or take."

"What are we still doing here then? Let's go—"

Bree tried to stand up, but Stuart was quick to rest a hand on her shoulder and gently push her back down the pavement. At her confusion, Stuart leaned closer, enough that Bree could get a whiff of his cologne in the middle of the parking lot. "Draven, you can barely even stand on your own right now."

Bree raised her eyebrows. "So?"

"So," Stuart continued. "You need to rest."

"But the app—"

"—has me, Nick and Neha working on it for the next three hours," he finished dismissively and left no space for arguments. "For now, you, Yo-Yo and Lyle need to sleep the night off."

"That's not fair," Bree griped in complete disbelief. 

"We're a team, remember?" Stuart brought up, and Bree would have thought he meant this in a mocking sort of way if it weren't for the fact that his gaze was steady on her. "This is just us looking after you."

"Yeah, but I don't want to just lounge around while you do most of the work," Bree said, trying to keep her voice fixed. "You guys are just as exhausted as we are."

There was a pause. "Draven." Stuart blinked several times, his lips turned down, before he asked, "When was the last time you slept?"

Bree was caught off guard by the question. As a creature of habit, it was hard for her to adjust to any new situation she was thrown in and Google, as big of a dream it may had been for her, was clearly no exception.

Almost two weeks had gone by and she was yet to find a familiar rhythm she could fall into. Despite this, she thought she did a pretty good job at hiding the fact that she was only getting less than two hours of sleep everyday. She never missed any of the team's personal deadlines, didn't sleep through any of their meetings — she even mastered the art of closing the dormitory door with barely any sound whenever she snuck out past 1 AM to go for a quick walk. 

But of course someone as perceptive as Stuart would notice.

Stuart must have sensed her hesitation because he raised a finger and lightly flicked her on the forehead. "You're overthinking things again."

He stood up to his full height and Bree probably looked just as small as she felt because one end of his lips quirked up the tiniest bit.

"I'll be back before you know it," he assured.

Bree tried not to act like a child, but she crossed her legs and simply frowned back. She wanted to argue more — tell him that she was perfectly fine, that she didn't need them to look out for her with the deadline looming over them — but the insistent pounding in her head was throwing her off her game. The amount of alcohol still running through her system wasn't doing her any favors either. 

Instead, she countered dryly, "You're not just saying that so you can ditch me here, right?"

Noticing the bite in her tone, he crouched back down so he could gauge the expression on her face. His touch was gentle as he adjusted the collar of her shirt, covering up the small part of her bra strap that was peeking out, and Bree would have thought the action was done almost fondly had she not been too buzzed to pay it much attention. 

His voice softened a bit, his eyes flickering around her face. "How about I pick you up in two hours and we can go back to Lyle's together to finish up the app?" Bree raised an eyebrow at this, so he continued, "I'll sleep, and you can do the rest of the work for me then."

Bree didn't reply right away, heavily considering it now. Then she finally looked at him, her shoulders slumped forward. Underneath the street light, the lines under her eyes seemed clearer, evidence of numerous sleepless nights that intricately matched his own. 

"That okay?" he asked when she still hadn't spoken. 

"Are you going to bring me breakfast?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

"A cheeseburger."

"McDonald's okay?"

"Fine, but no mustard."

"Deal."

After a long second, she nodded with a defeated sigh. "Yeah, okay. I can wait here until you get back."

Stuart grinned. "Good girl."

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