he's got to be crazy

23 1 11
                                                  

"You can, uhm, leave your coat on the couch if you want," the lanky boy looked back at her briefly, flashing a pressed smile, as he fumbled with the door's lock. His voice was coated with a thick shakiness as he tripped over his own words, and she could tell he was holding back a cough. God, she hated her job sometimes.

Sure, he was sweet, and offered to tip, and his apartment was extremely clean (not like that Goodwin guy who's house was like serial killer clean, but neat for a single man in his twenties' apartment), but he oozed inexperience, and Gloria wasn't sure what he wanted.

Although she longed to keep her coat on in the scarily freezing loft, the girl draped the teddy bear jacket across the back of the mossy couch, and, as the boy struggled with taking his boots off easily, smoothed down her skirt and fixed her bra. Goosebumps arose almost immediately on her exposed skin, and she felt her core burn in the cold.

Looking around the small apartment, no red flags arose. There was about threeish rooms, the living room-kitchen hybrid, the bathroom and the bedroom, which door stood wide open. Gloria's eyes had already adjusted to the growing darkness that was settling, but she moved towards the bedroom a bit more to see deeper into it. Normally, clients brought her to a hotel, but this one requested to go back to his place. And normally, she would never go home with a client, but Gloria was three weeks late for rent and to be perfectly honest, this one seemed too pathetic to hurt her. She also had Daniel on speed dial for reinforcement.

Behind her, she heard a sigh, which guided her to face the boy. He looked about her age, maybe four inches taller, with curly brown hair. The sun, setting deeply into the night, cascaded along his face, calling attention to a scar that etched down his cheek to the top of his lip that he lazily tried to hide with leaning his head to the side. He wasn't that bad looking, in fact, maybe one of the better one Gloria has had.

Focusing her attention on her posture and keeping her jaw still in the freezing air, she watched as he struggled with keeping eye contact.

"Will, right?" her voice was scratchy, much scratchier than she wanted. Closing the distance between the two, Gloria inched towards him, taking off her own heels in the process. His breathing deepened, even though he struggled for control, and he cursed himself for not closing that damned window before he left.

"Uh, yeah. Will," his face heated as he heard himself whisper. Looking around, it was getting harder and harder for him to look at her as she approached to the point of their chest standing two inches apart.

"Well Will, where would you like us to go for our little party?"

His room was almost ten time colder. To the point their breaths were visible. Wind pushed through the ajar window, hitting the shear curtains. They flowed in gracefully, strumming the guitar lightly that stood alone against the wall. In front of the window sat his bed, which was thrown together haphazardly. Next to the door sat a skinny bureau, in which Will dropped his keys on top of. Across the room as a little table that held a record player. Under the table was a basket overflowed with records, all neatly taken care of.

For the first time ever, Gloria had no idea what to do with herself with a client. His nervousness must have rubbed off on her as she lingered near the door, watching the boy float across the room with her arms crossed herself, bearing the same energy as a school girl uncomfortably attending her first dance.

He sat down on his bed, leaning his forearms on his thighs, and took a breath before looking up to her. Uncrossing her arms, Gloria took her time to meet him, trying to come up with some possible way not to make this more awkward. The tension was thick between them, and as she took her place next to Will, she licked her lips before scanning his face again. His scar was more prominent, it was obviously fading, but it was deep enough to be an old one. Following the line down to his lips, she flashed her sight back up to his own eyes, asking for permission. He seemed at unease, but she wasn't able to tell if he didn't want her or not.

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