Dirty Sheets (Sheets Trilogy: Book One)

17 | His Room

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17. his room

I stepped through the door, piles of bags stuffed under my arms. My body bumped repeatedly into the walls of the apartment as the weight of the groceries threatens to take me over.

"Silas?" I call out as I stumbled onto the kitchen's island, shoving the plastic bags off of my arms and onto the countertop. Deep red imprints mark my wrist and began rubbing my wrist. "Silas? Help me put up the groceries. You know the rule." I slipped out of the kitchen and past the living room to a small hallway with two rooms on both sides. On was the bathroom and the other was Silas' bedroom.

I walked over to the room on the left, "Silas? You up?" I knocked gently onto the door, knowing how much of an asshole he acts like and the tantrums he throws when he's hungover. Grasping onto the cold doorknob, I knock again, this time opening the door to lay ajar. "Silas?"

My eyes scan the usual minimalistic room. "Silas?"

Deciding that this walking eggplant has had enough of my patience, I walk into his room.

One side of his wall was accented with red bricks as a bed, covered in pure white sheets and surrounded by an oak headboard, was pushed against a white wall. The glorious daylight pooled through the open windows, brightening the room, giving light to the small succulents that grew in cream vases that sat on top of marble side tables that stood on each side of the bed. A long lamp, stuck in the counter of the room next to a small brown armchair, stretched from the floor to the tops of the windows before twisting and allowing the lightbulbs to hang.

As I stepped into the room my feet hit the plush cream rug which laid above Silas' wooden floors.

My eyes scanned the room and I sighed in annoyance. The bed was freshly made, plants were watered and black shoes were placed by the door. The fucking shithead left while I was out. He knows the rules. If someone goes to get groceries, the other has to wait until they get back just so they can put up the groceries together.

A groan left my lips as I flopped onto his bed, my body flying up before dropping back down from gravity.

I knew how pissed off Silas would be at me for fucking up his bed. You know for a man-whore, he's weirdly clean. You'd think that his entire life is over if one thing is this room was messed up. He'd fuck any girl he wanted in here and make a mess that would make a dumpster look clean, but after that, they have to clean up and leave. Poor girls; came for dick and cuddles and got a dick and a cleanup job. Picky picky.

You know you'd wish that was you, even for a night. My subconscious tries to talk but I tell her to shut the fuck up before shoving her into a dark room in my head.

"Everything has a place, Sutton." He had told me once and since then, I can never forget it as much as I want to.

I allow my body to sink into the comfortable mattress, relaxing all of the kinks in my body before sitting up slowly and glancing over at the only personal picture in the room. A picture of me and Silas after my family's annual get-together in July.

I reach over and grab the photograph, studying it.

Drenched in paint from a recent paint fight over a simple game, our bodies clung together as Silas hugged me from behind. Silly smiles erupted on our faces as Silas threaten to lick my cheek, his tongue almost touching me.

Silas was supposed to be painting a sunset for sister's bedroom, but then I decided to distract him from his precious artwork with a simple hitting game. Five minutes, my mom found us in the room, throwing paint at each other when she took this photo.

My attention strays away from the photo to all of the paintings on the walls that were made and selected by Silas to be featured in his room. He has more, but he never shows them to me.

I took a deep breath before placing the picture back onto the dust-free bedside table.

I slip off of the bed and out of the room, leaving all of my past memories behind the closed door.

I scrape the tips of my fingers against the island's countertops before deciding to start on the impending groceries.

My natural curly bangs that I had cut at 1 am during a mental breakdown, weren't styled as usual when I let my hair down so when the doorbell rang and I answered, the one thing Keegan could point out was that.

"Your hair." He pointed at the top of my head.

"Uh, thanks, I guess?"

"I've never seen it like that."

"Well since we were just chilling, I thought that styling it would be pointless." I shrug my shoulders as my fingers twirl around my curls.

"Well, I like it," Keegan rocked on the back of his heels before gesturing behind him. "I gave my chauffeur, Adam a day-off so it's just you and me."

A pair of jeans hugged his hips as he wore a plain grey t-shirt. He tossed his dark brown, messy hair back, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, give me a second." I stop him before running back into the kitchen.

I grab my purse, opening it quickly to make sure I had my wallet in it before sliding it onto my shoulder. I stop and began to stare at the phone laying still on the countertop. I chew on my bottom lip before realizing that Keegan and I have had too many distractions and left as I called out, "I'm coming."

Unknown to me as I left, my phone began to buzz rapidly on the countertop, signaling a simple text message.

Silas: Food & movie after I get back?

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[a/n]

I hope you liked Chapter 17 of Dirty Sheets.

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