Tetris in Red

26: Tetris in His Arms

26: Tetris in His Arms

Rhys

It's still dark outside when I opened my still-heavy eyes.

The waves crashing against the shore in the distance is the only thing I hear in the silence of the room. I look to my left and right to see what woke me up, but everything seems so still. Great, now I don't want to sleep anymore.

I throw the comforter to my sides and grab my phone on the bedside table. Straining my ears to hear any noise from the other two occupants of the house, I carefully place my feet in my fluffy slippers and walk to my door. The slight creak slicing through the silence as I push it open makes me wince.

A breath escapes me as I manage to squeeze my lithe body between the crack.

The hallway is dark, but it's soon lit up with led lights placed on the hollow in the ceiling when the motion detector traced my movements. It also quickly turns off once I pass by, though. Such a rich people thing, right?

I have no idea where Cyprus slept or what happened after I locked myself in my room. Not that I care. Cyprus seems to be an all bark, no bite type of guy. But I want to be careful. Any run-ins should be avoided. I need to do my business fast.

I quickly walk to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water. Afterward, I start collecting chips and cookies from the snack bar. If this type of crisis happens again, I might as well be ready for it. I'm not going to subject myself to this paranoia and anxiety again.

The more my brain wakes up, the more I think about the possible scenarios if Cyprus ever catches me alone.

Footsteps click against the floor just as I'm grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge. My body freezes as I turn around. Alec leans against the railing, his tired smiling eyes focus on me.

"Thief in the night," he whispers as he walks down the remaining steps.

I place the snacks and milk on the countertop and step away from it. "No. I'm just... rearranging things..."

He chuckles. "What are you going to do, put the snacks on the fridge and the milk on the snack bar?"

I ignore the fact that he's only wearing boxer shorts and tear a bag of chips. "You're right. That's ridiculous. I'm going to eat instead."

"I didn't say it was."

"You did."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes—" My words halt as he leans close, his breath smells of whiskey and mint. "Were you drinking?"

A grin grows on his lips. He steps away from me and walks to the fridge, my breath catches as he turns his back—broad, muscular, tattoed back on me. My sight struggles to make up what the tattoos are, but it covers the entirety of his back like a silk blanket.

I saw them once on a fan page. They are huge, intricate, solid tattoos connected to one another. It makes him look majestic on stage, especially with the lights shining on him and the crowd is nothing but silhouettes below him.

"You might want to close that pretty, little mouth, Red. You're being too obvious."

I do. "I was?"

"Hmm. I might think you want me, and I might take you up on that offer. You never know." He chuckles again. This time, I feel it all the way to my toes. Then his head turns, his drunk eyes connecting with mine and I'm at a loss. "Do you, though?"

"Alec..."

"It's just a question. No harm, no foul."

I swallow. "A bad question, then."

He lets go of the fridge door and turns his body to me. His gaze making me feel naked all of a sudden. "The world already thinks we're dating. We are the only ones lying to ourselves now."

"You're drunk."

"My head is clear. I only had two fingers," he says as he takes a step towards me. I take a step back. And we do it again and again until my back hits the countertop. He cages me with his arms on both sides of me that I have no choice but to look up to him. "This hair. Why?"

I sputter a laugh. "W-What?"

His face turns serious. "I always think you look like a doll, a gorgeous one at that. Especially with this hair. It makes you stand out."

"I used to have long hair, then LA happened."

"LA changes you."

"This city builds and destroys dreams. I have to make them remember me. I have to stand out."

His hands find my waist, caressing. Then his head dips, his nose skimming the side of my neck. "It worked well. Really, really well."

"Alec..."

"You smell good."

He leans away and looks at me, eyes tracing every inch of my face. "All of a sudden, my hands are painted with red."

His hands squeeze my waist gently. The pounding of my heart has never been this loud. I push him away. "We can't."

"I know."

I bite my lips. "I just want my chips and milk. Why am I getting a bare you when the enemy is just upstairs?"

He chuckles. The tension dissolving into the comfortable atmosphere we are used to. Thank gods of rational decisions and humor. You never fail me. I'll make sure to honor you in the afterlife.

Alec steps back from me and carries the food I attempted to stash away earlier. "I'll handle this for you."

I smile. "Thank you."

We begin our way upstairs, straining our ears to hear any movement. I breathe a sigh of relief when we reach my door. A comfortable silence still upon us even after Alec places the food on my bed and when it's finally time to close my door.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Nothing to be sorry about. But we really can't."

He nods, but it's half-hearted. Everything we are saying is. "Yeah. I know." He steps away. "I know."

The click of my door as it shuts has never sounded so final.