The next day; After risking permission from my parents, I went over to Robert's house after school finished. Turns out, he doesn't live that far away from me. His house was exactly across the street. But I wasn't willing to expose that information to him yet. Once dismissal came, I immediately left the school with Robert. I wasn't risking anything else like being questioned about why I was hanging out with another guy after school by Emmaly, Angela, Logan, or whatever. If there's one thing you should know about being the girlfriend of a football jock, is that you'll have a controlling - yet, sweet - boyfriend.
Now, Robert and I were in his bedroom. It was pretty cool: There were movie posters plastered on every fragment of the walls and the floor was carpeted with blue fur, there was a rare trampoline bed that was littered with comic books and candy wrappers, a slightly wrinkled baseball-glove chair, a flat-screen TV that sat on top of a glass cabinet filled with many, different movies, and other really cool stuff with some gadgets and gizmos scattered everywhere on the floor or furniture. But, you could obviously tell that Robert was a film geek. A messy, disorganized, lazy film geek.
"Cool room." I said, dazed and feeling lost, out of place.
"Thanks," Robert said. "It is my room, after all. I would've tidy up a bit if I'd known you were coming over immediately, though."
I collapsed to the floor and let my knees prop my body up, sturdily, so that I could identify his cabinet that was crammed with many different movie titles peeking out of the glass. We had decided to watch a movie since Robert's dad would come home an hour later from now, and time seemed to be our slow opponent at the moment of now. My eyes scanned the entire movie wardrobe and it had settled for a horror movie; The horror movie when I was around 11 or 12 years old.
"Wanna watch Carrie?" I plucked a DVD case that felt light-weighted and filed a creepy aura around itself radiating the creepiness onto my arm, making my hand shake vibrantly. Robert noticed this and smirked.
"You scared of a horror movie?" He teased, making fists and pretending to wash tears pouring out of his eyes like a little baby crying.
"Try me," I dared.
Robert snickered and snatched the DVD case out of my hands, inserting it into the DVD player. He dimmed the lights and he sat on the trampoline bed, patting the spot next to him reassuringly. I climbed onto the bouncy bed and he wrapped us in thick, cozy blankets with warm pillows to rest on. The film started and I was ready to rip off Robert's arm if a jump-scare came on. Thank goodness, he has two arms; I might need a spare one to dig my nails into.
-
"It's not that scary," I said.
Robert tilted his head back and hit it against the wall, annoyed. I giggled and submersed into the comfort of the blankets again and snuggled more into Robert's chest. He was so unbelievably warm, I wouldn't be surprised if he was secretly a werewolf. His arm was draped over my shoulder, pulling me into his lukewarm body. My arms were enveloped around Robert's abdomen and I inhaled the fading scent of his cologne, smiling to myself stupidly.
Yeah, halfway through the movie, I got scared out of my skin and Robert just comforted me with his warmth, making me feel safer. To be honest, I could've survived past the rest of the movie but I wanted to stay in Robert's arms so I just stayed and breathed in the faint scent of his cologne every now and then. Every time I glanced up at him, I managed to find him staring back sometimes with his brown, lusty eyes that would just lure you into a trap. It'd make me look away, blushing embarrassed when he realized I was staring at him. Or maybe he should be the one embarrassed since I always find him staring at me. But technically, this was considered as cuddling, right? Logan and I never did this; this as in cuddle.
The same pang of guilt attacked me as I continued to push thoughts of Logan out of my mind. It's not that I wasn't thinking about him, it's just that I didn't want to. There's nothing wrong with that, right?
A door frame slamming shut is what jerked me out of my thoughts. Robert literally surged out of bed and pondered out of the door, fastening a wide smile onto his face and motioning me downstairs. I scrammed out of bed and loped down the stairs, slowing down to see Robert talking to a tall man who's black hair was painted loosely with a white and gray color. He extended his arm out and I reached for his hand, shaking it diligently and returning a warm smile.
"Nice to meet you, Natalie. I'm Mr. Downey, but please call me Robert."
I arched a brow, confused and pointed at Robert. "I thought he was Robert."
"Oh yeah," He chuckled at his little mistake. "Call me Robert Senior then. I don't like the Mister in my name. It makes me sound old."
"You are old, Dad," Robert did an exaggerated eye roll that made a smile tug onto my face.
Robert Senior mimicked his eyeroll then murmured to me, "Never name your children after yourselves."
Then he walked away upstairs with Robert and I chasing him until we stopped at his room. Robert Senior turned around and looked at us, amused. He saluted us like the military would do to their commissioner and then waved.
"Hey, nice to see you again."
Robert cut to the point, "Dad, uh, Natalie and I want to rehearse a skit and we want some pointers on what to do and stuff since you were a former actor, director, and whatever."
Robert Senior nodded and grinned mischievously at us both, "Are you doing Romeo and Juliet?"
"...No, Dad, will you help us?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll help you. Just shut up and give me ten minutes."
Robert and I chuckled, dancing down the stairs and sinking into the red cushions where green pillows littered the big, leather couch. Robert just smirked and poked my neck repeatedly while I tilted my head into the shoulder opposite to him, pretending to sleep. It took every fiber in me to not laugh, because that was my secret vulnerable, ticklish spot.
"Here's a fun fact," Robert said in that same British accent he used yesterday. "Laughing is your reflex to tickling which is why you do not laugh when you tickle yourself, because your brain knows you won't hurt yourself."
I gave in and a grin tore across my face and I guffawed, cracking up and fell face first into a green pillow. Robert used this as an opportunity to continue caress the soft, bare skin of my neck with his meaty fingers that felt so warm. But eventually, his hands traced down my spine and he began massaging it slowly and I couldn't help but release a moan which turned muffled because of the pillow clogging up my mouth.
"Get a room, you two," I lifted my head from the pillow to see Robert Senior walking down the stairs in his bathrobe, narrowing his eyes at us. "Oh, you're massaging her, I thought--"
"Okay Dad, we get it," Robert groaned in a cute, boyish way. "And why do you have a bathrobe on?"
Robert Senior had a smug grin plastered across his face, "Well, there's nothing underneath. So, if you want me to take it off..."
"NO!" Robert and I shrieked in horror and I shielded my eyes if he didn't get the memo.
"I'm just joking," He snickered. "Anyways, let's get started.
"While I was putting on my bathrobe, I realized I had this really, unbearable itch on the small of my back and I was printing out the script of a skit that you could do. I would've done Romeo and Juliet but decided against it and chose a modern love story. I hate cheesy one-liners honestly, and I'm allergic to cheese too."
Robert Senior handed us a stapled set of papers and I looked at Robert who was already smiling at me, so I returned it back. I turned away to skim over the papers, but through my peripheral vision, I could see that Robert was still looking at me, smiling.
"Okay goo goo eyes, just skim over the play and do not memorize it," Robert Senior warned.
After I thumbed through all four pieces of papers, Robert Senior clapped his hands and cleared his throat, demanding all attention towards him.
"Alright," He said. "Now, let's see if we understand this. Natalie, who is your character?"
"Susan," I retorted politely.
"Bobby, what about you?"
I gagged on trying to suppress a laugh. My teeth sunk into my lower lip trying to trap it from forming a wide smile at the nickname Robert's father gave him. Bobby?
Robert bit the inside of his cheeks and mumbled bluntly, "Matt."
Robert Senior asked sternly, taking this seriously like a teacher, "When is this happening?"
Robert shrugged, "It's a modern play, so I guess today, maybe?"
Robert Senior applauded and then stood at ease. "What is happening in this play?"
"Um," I tried. "My character, Susan, settles for Mr. Okay instead of Mr. Perfect and he's kind of clueless and doesn't cherish his girlfriend which is my character."
"Exactly right," He pointed at me, then asked. "If you decided, what would be the props of this performance and what would be the themes of this play?"
"A theme could be.. dating and relationships?" I tried hesitantly.
"Or respect?" Robert butted in. "Something every girl deserves."
"That's my boy," Robert Senior said proudly. "Always a ladies' man and yes, you both are correct. What are the props?"
Robert's cheeks altered into the lightest shade of pink and he looked down, his brown eyes gluing onto his shoes that were probably customized.
"A table, chairs, a tray of food--"
"Her purse," Robert butted in, again. "Blindfold, croutons, salad, a salad bowl--"
"Ring box," I interrupted, playing his little game. "Money, a sparking ring, ribs, beans, sauce--"
"Spoons, forks, knives, beverages--"
"And we should be dressed as formally as possible."
"A suit for me and a dress for this one." Robert pointed at me, showing off a smug grin that's identical to his father's.
"Enough!" Robert Senior howled. "We are not reciting a romantic skit; we are doing the exact opposite."
Robert Senior's eyes wandered over to an abstract clock that was glued onto the wall behind me. "Wow, it's seven o' clock, already? Kids, we'll finish this another time, I have to get to a meeting!"
"At night?"
"Yep," Robert Senior retorted. "This is the life of an old man. You can ask your friend to stay or whatever... Bye guys. He sprang out of the living room, peeling his wool coat off of the coat rack beside the door that he slammed on the way out.
"Do you have to go home?" Robert asked.
"It's okay, I can walk back."
"Uh, no you can't. I brought you here and you probably don't remember the way back to your house"
"Uh, doesn't matter." I mocked him. "I live across the street."
"Really?" He asked, brightening up when I nodded.
I felt waves of vibrates budging in my pocket. I yanked my phone out of my pocket, frowning sympathetically when my Dad's contact was blinking on the phone. I held a finger up to Robert telling him to wait and I clicked the answer button, holding the phone up to my ear.
"Natalie?" A tired voice cracked on the other end.
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Natalie, is there a friend you can stay over with?"
"Um, yeah why?"
"I need to go to the hospital and see your aunt because she might be sick just like your mother had."
"Oh," I trailed off. "See you tomorrow or some day." I hanged up.
"Everything okay?"
I nodded and sat down on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth slowly.
"What's wrong?"
I ignored Robert and respired, shutting my eyes being afraid of the tears that might've spilled out of my eyes.
I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder and pull me into their chest. I inhaled Robert's familiar scent and clutched onto the collar of his shirt.
"My Dad told me that my mom died when I was born because she was diagnosed with cancer, and she had a choice to save me or to save herself, and we can all guess of the choice that she made. And my aunt might be sick with it too, so my Dad is driving to a hospital."
"Where are you gonna stay? Home alone?"
"..No, I don't like being lonely. I was gonna stay with my friend, Emmaly, but I don't want to drive all the way across town."
"You could stay with me, if you want."
I looked up at him and even though my vision was blurred, I could see his brown eyes showing sincerity.
"Slumber party?" I asked.