Duplicity | l.s

03

I stood frozen within the threshold— in front of a man who has been on my mind all night. I couldn't explain the things happening in my bloodstream right now, all things that were results of pure nerves. 

 He was sat slouched there on the couch, arm extended across the back of it and his black boots planted right on the floor. In his right hand he had a half glass of dark liquor resting on top of this thigh, rings covering his fingers. His large hand was nearly wrapped around the entire cup because it was so big. 

 He was a far distance away, but yet the tension made me feel like he was standing right in front of my toes. I swallowed the lump in my throat, realizing I haven't answered his question yet. 

 "A game?" My voice came out softer then I meant for it to. 

 He stared at me as I answered, bringing the glass to rest against his lips but not sipping from it yet. He looked me up at down once, I was still standing in the doorway.  

He tipped the glass back and so subtly smirked while letting the liquid pour down his throat. His eyes met mine again, my stomach tensing at the contact. 

 "You're nervous." He rested the glass back on his thigh, hand gripped firmly around it. Did I really look as nervous as I felt? Because that just made me more nervous. He looked to get amusement from my neurotic state, like he feeds off others hesitations. 

 He was still sweaty from his show, I could tell. But it looked good on him. Once again I didn't know how to answer, his questions we're so out of the ordinary for me. 

 "Your show, it was great." —Was the first thing that came to my mind. 

 He leaned forward and put the empty glass down on the table, leaning back in his original position on the couch. His leather gloved hand ran back through his sweaty curls. 

 "Are you gonna shut the door and tell me that?" He rasped, seeming how I was still standing in the open doorway with my palm on the door handle. 

 I looked at the door and quickly shut it, now just standing in front of a closed door in the same awkward spot. 

 He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. 

 "Do you need to be told what to do step by step?" He asked with a straight face. At least I knew the answer to this one. 

 "No." I shook my head. 

 "Then come sit down, I don't bite." He states, looking at the empty spot next to him on the couch.

  I don't know why I was so hesitant about everything, I was really astounded to be here and getting to talk to him after watching his performance the past few hours. 

 "Right." I laugh to myself, trying to loosen up. 

 He watches me as I walk over to him, sitting down on the two seater couch that only gave a few inches between our legs touching. I could smell the cologne on him when I sat this close, it was such a good smell. He was sweaty from his show but he didn't smell like it at all. I was praying I myself didn't smell like sweat considering how bloody hot I was in the venue. 

 I placed my hands on my lap, turning my head to him on my left. His eyes met mine, seeing how red they were around the waterline like he was sleep deprived or something. I noticed earlier how bloodshot they were at the show, they looked a little better now. 

 He was so handsome, god or some higher power must've spent extra time on him. 

 His arm was still extended along the back of the couch behind me, making me just want to lean into his side and stay curled up there. He doesn't look like a cuddler but I know his strong body would be perfect for it. He'd be the perfect big spoon, I can see it now.  I must be very naive to be thinking about cuddling right now.