This is my story. It is a bit out of place in all the blood and violence: my story is, ahem, different. It is 716 words long and without a title. I hope you like it. Feel free to comment on it, though please do so via PM.
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As the first light beams of a new day entered the hotel room, she lay in bed, watching the patterns the light created on the ceiling and thinking about what happened last night. She sighed and stepped out of bed. Her clothes had been thrown carelessly over a chair. She picked them up and walked towards the bathroom. The bedroom door next to hers was open. She couldn’t resist the temptation of looking in. He was still in bed. He had thrown the covers on the floor and slept under a single sheet to make the hot night more bearable. His crumpled clothes were laid out on the floor.
She leaned against the doorpost and mused that he was actually quite pretty. Not handsome, but pretty in a boyish sort of way. Only his expression didn’t quite fit, but now he was asleep and his face expressionless, he was pretty.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes and looked straight at her. “Good morning,” he said in a clear voice.
She stepped back instinctively, but answered, “Good morning,” in the same unaffected voice.
An awkward silence fell. Finally, she said, “You awake quickly.”
“I have been awake for several hours,” he answered. She didn’t reply. After a while he added, “I have been thinking about the usual things you think of when you lie in bed in the morning. About what happened last night, about what I am going to do today, about whether I should stay here or go to the toilet.” The last words were said with half a grin, and he moved his upper body in an upright position.
“Be my guest,” she answered, smiling as well.
“I already went two hours ago.”
“At five o’clock?” she asked in amazement.
“Yet lag, I suppose,” he said, half-shrugging.
“It is only a time difference of one hour,” she replied, as if interrogating him.
“So? I always get up at six.”
Another silence fell. This time, she was the one to break it. “About last night –” she started.
“Not before I’ve had a shower,” he interrupted, not quite looking at her. She stared at him for a moment. Then she turned and walked to the bathroom quickly. As she closed the bathroom door she saw he was lying down again, but his eyes were open and staring at the wall. For a moment, she thought she could see them flash toward the bathroom door.
She took a short shower and dressed. As she stepped out of the bathroom, she saw he had gotten out of bed and was sorting through his clothes. He yawned.
“Not used to rising early, I see,” she said with a smile.
“I –” he started, and then stopped. He looked at the wall and shrugged. “Apparently,” he said. She waited for a further reply, but he only felt his cheek, still gazing at the wall. She turned around and stepped into her bedroom.
She saw him walking past, clothes over his arm and an electric shaver in his hand, but he didn’t look at her. She heard him shave and take a long shower. As she waited, she made a half-hearted attempt at reading, but her eyes kept straying to the window or to the bathroom door.
As he walked out again, fully dressed, he yawned again.
“Not used to rising early and not fully awake even after a long shower. You must have very interesting things to do each evening,” she said, smiling. He gave her a stern look, but she returned his gaze and kept her smile.
Finally, he said, “The petit dejeuner starts at half past seven. It should be lovely quiet now. Shall we have breakfast, miss?” with an inviting gesture towards the door.
She took a moment before answering, “Yes, I would like some breakfast,” adding, “sir,” with emphasis.
They did not talk on the way towards the breakfast room. She was determined he should be the first to mention the subject. But he didn’t bring it up when they sat down at a breakfast table. He didn’t say anything at all, apart from asking her to pass this or that or inquiring whether she wanted something. Finally, when breakfast was almost over, he spoke, “About last night –”
“Yes?” she said urgently...
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