Chapter 9

NINE

He opened the door and looked freshly showered. It was nearly half past one but apparently he put his clothes back on. Her own skin was still glowing from the long bath she took before she went over to his room. She kind of hoped that it would change her mind about doing it, or that he would be asleep by the time she would appear. “Hi,” he said and opened the door further to invite her in.

“So here I am, alone, there is no man in my room, you can check if you want, or have you already? Since you seem to spy on me for a hobby or something.”

He closed the door and she sat down on his couch. She had quite a big room herself but the living era of his suite was the size of her whole room. He headed over to the minibar and poured her a glass of wine without asking her if she wanted one.

“Like I tried to explain to you before, I am not spying on you, maybe there is a reason why we keep running in to each other.”

He pulled a meaningful face at her as he carried the two glasses to the table and sat down on the couch next to her.

To give herself something to do she picked up her glass and took a sip from the cool wine.

“So aren’t you going to ask me what the show was like?” he then said realising she wasn't going to answer and he leaned a little towards her.

She shook her head and slowly ran her forefinger around the rim of her glass. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Because you don’t care?” she could hear the amusement in his voice. He didn’t even try to hide it.

“No, and because we both know that it was a great show anyway, you guys have been doing this for so long, there’s no such thing as good and band shows.”

“And you know that because?”

She shrugged her shoulders and eventually put her glass back on the table. She looked at him. “Am I wrong?”

He didn’t answer her question directly. “But there are good and bad crowds…”

She nodded: “So, was it a good audience?”

He laughed softly and got up. She followed him with her eyes as he crossed the room. He picked up a black jeans jacket that laid on a desk and got a pack of cigarettes out.

“Yes, thanks for asking.” He lit two cigarettes and offered her one. She willingly accepted it and inhaled deeply. She was aware that he was looking at her but that was alright now she knew it. 

“When are you leaving?” she suddenly asked.

“Tomorrow night,” he let out a sigh and the smoke escaped with the air. “what about you?”

“The day after…” she took another drag and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t she added: “That means we are really close to making it through this week without…”

He bend over to put out his cigarette in the heavy glass ashtray that stood on the dark wood table in front of them.

“Without what?” he said and looked aside at her while he sat back again.

“Fucking…”

His eyes widened. This was the first time she was that direct and it didn’t make it any easier for him to resist her. He instantly lit a second cigarette and looked at her in the meantime. It was the first time he saw her without any make-up on but he hardly noticed a difference. Her eyes were just as light and her skin as smooth and light as ever. She wore black leggings, a black top and a pastel pink knitted cardigan. She didn’t make an effort at all, and he loved that. She wore flip-flops and it showed him two bruised, sore feet. But that was probably just what ballerina feet looked like permanently. He was also kind of glad to discover at least one flaw, but that only made her more beautiful at the same time.  

He looked at her with dark eyes. “So… than this would be the moment where we decide if that is how we want to leave this goddamn place," he said.

She was aware of the fact that her breathing increased a little. On any other night she would have blamed the wine as she slid towards him and took his cigarette out of his hands. But she knew that something else was guiding her now. It was desire, longing that build up inside her for days. She put it in the ashtray and during the moment that followed they just sat and looked at each other. Then he reached towards her and she swallowed hard when he caressed her throat and her cheeks with two of his fingers. He went on to her upper arm and lightly brushed the back of his hand across her breast. With his other hand he slowly put her hair loose and it fell down around her shoulders, and over her breasts in long blonde waves. She opened her mouth to stop him one last time. But she was unable to speak.

They stood up in one synchronised move and he slid her cardigan down her shoulders. It fell at her feet and she looked up at him. Awaiting his next move, instead of trying to take control as she should have. He stood there and watched her for a moment. “Say it…” he said, almost in a whisper. His voice was a little more hoarse than usual.

She didn’t know what he wanted to hear. She didn’t know what he meant but there was only one thing she wanted him to know at that moment. One thing that would let him know he had her right where he wanted her to be. She didn’t know if she would regret it, if she would hate herself the following morning. But something had changed. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. Going home without knowing suddenly seemed impossible. Stupid even because everything about him told her it was going to be worth it. 

“You won.”