.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 9. Different Light.

Would she be smooth about it? Probably.
She'd totally do it a lot better than me.

He was taking his time to shower, the steam drifting into the room as the mists in my mind seemed to curl, making time become slower and heavier. I was feeling my tiring eyes craving for sleep, and I almost made myself comfortable, when I glanced at him walking slowly outside, showing what I could only call a real life altering fashion statement.

He was wearing a cardigan that looked like the sewing machine puked a tiger in the middle of indigo and orange colors, probably worth more than my life; beneath it, his hospital gown that kinda showed the rows and rows of sculpted muscle underneath, a pair of grey sweats and slippers. He looked like a commercial for whatever the hell he wanted. He could have been selling anything and I'd buy it with compulsion.

"I couldn't get my shirt on, or my socks." He moved his hand to scratch a bit of his chest, with only his thumb. "This isn't my best outfit."

My lips twitched with amusement, of course it was going to be really rude if I laughed, but he looked like such a diva, it was impossible not to be entertained by it. He used his forearm to wipe the drops of water falling from his moist tiny curls into his chest. His hair was really damp and he probably needed to towel dry it.

"I can help you with them if you want."

"I'm sleeping like this, just help me dry my hair, uh, please." He handed me a smaller towel as he made his way up to the bed, where I slid the covers back and helped him to sit. I dried his hair as gently as possible and then raked my fingers through the strands to avoid any knotting, but his hair looked even better up close and it smelled incredible.

"You're all set."

"You see, it wasn't that bad, helping me."

On the contrary, it was almost a blessing.

"It wasn't bad, no. Now take your pills and get some sleep." I handed him the two tiny pills by his bed and the small glass of water. He thanked me slowly and I helped him get settled in the bed, the covers and blankets wrapping him up.

He rested his arm against his torso, and closed his eyes.
That was my cue.
I turned off the lights.
My job here was done, and it was over.

***

I spent thirty minutes opening and closing my eyes, trying to fall asleep for the millionth time, but it was pointless. I rolled onto my side and faced the window just in time to hear the sounds of him moving around in the sheets. The tiny glow in the darkness made me wonder what time it was, and the shuffling sounds were constant.
He was clearly not finding a comfortable spot.
I released a few controlled breaths in order to calm myself down enough to decide whether I wanted to check on him or just let him be.

"Are you okay?" I asked him only on the third breath, my body jumping to sit on the couch.

"I can't sleep."

"Well you're not going to fall asleep if you keep moving around."

"Are you sleepy?"

I considered for a while to just tell him an affirmation to that. It was simpler and it was easier, to just pretend to be really sleepy until he was in the mood for closing his eyes. But no, I wasn't sleepy at all. "Not anymore."

"Come 'ere." His voice sounded so sincere that I got scared from the request, I sat down further on the couch and clicked on the lights. I stared at him, where he was laying.
He looked so comfortable in there, body fully covered in pleasant blankets, expression relaxed from the shower before, and he really did looked like he was healing fast.