Improvised Plan #ProjectNigeria

10- Comfort

"Am I sweet-mouthed? Hmm, this is new."

I turn to look up at him, marvelling at the way his eyes are bright with that mischief I've come to enjoy so much. He is on charm mode now, his smile wide, his brow raised, teeth flashing. My eyes focus on the scar below his eye. I almost reach out to touch it, but I fist my hands.

"Come on, I didn't mean it as a compliment. Don't let your head swell, " I say.

"I think it already is."

A chime interrupts our conversation before the metal doors slide open. I step into the air-conditioned suite and make straight for the bed. I need to lie down and rest my brain for a few minutes. Settling on my back, I spread my arms and smile. The soft white sheets are welcoming, cool from the cold air circulating around the room. I close my eyes and inhale deeply.

Now that my anger has been poured out on my family, I feel empty. Empty and exhausted, like some of my driving force has been expelled and I don't know if its a good thing or a bad thing. I had held on to those words for so long, I got used to having that pain with me.

"Ola, you're going to sleep off in your dinner dress if you don't get changed," Saheed tells me pointedly.

"I have nothing else to wear."

"You left some lingerie amongst other things here when Nonye first showed up. I put them in a drawer for you."

"Oh." I smile from the bed. "Thoughtful of me."

My eyes close on their own accord and for a while, I forget about everything. When I open them, Saheed's face is over mine. It takes me a few moments to focus on him because I am disoriented from my short nap.

"There are facial wipes on the bathroom sink. The water temperature has been set to warm, and your sleep wear is hanging on a rack along with some fresh towels," he is saying gently.

His face looks freshly scrubbed, devoid of oil. He must have taken a quick shower while I was asleep. I focus on the water clinging to his brow. It runs down his cheek, over his stubble... Before it falls and lands on my thigh.

I blink rapidly to clear my mind.

"... for you if you feel the sleep wear is too provocative," he completes.

"What?"

"You'll understand when you see it."

"See what?"

He rolls his eyes. "Did you even hear what I said?"

I shrug and rise from the bed. "Thanks."

I emerge a few minutes later, invigorated from the bath and wearing one of his big shirts over my sleep wear. Saheed was right... The sleep wear is too... Personal. It's something I wear when I'm home alone: a matching set of lacy, see-through tank top and shorts.

"You understand now?" he asks with a laugh when he sees me in his shirt.

He is seated at his table, working on his laptop, a book open beside it.

"I must have convinced Nonye, right? I bet when she saw this on your bed, she thought we were into some kinky stuff."

"No doubt."

"What project have you been working on?"

"My Dad and I are teaming up to work on a fifty-storey building on Banana Island," he confides. "He does most of the fieldwork, and I'm in the background, which is fine for me."

"Ah, I see. At least you are still on good terms, that's nice."

"It's a love-hate relationship."