M A X W E L L

egyptian cotton sheets

B L U E

10

I shriek upon peeling my eyes open.

"How long have you been staring at me?" I ask, trying to calm my pounding heart.

"Long enough to know that you drool in your sleep," Maxwell says nonchalantly and rises from the armchair across the room.

"Where am I?"

"You're in my apartment," he says

I lift myself into an upright position and take in my surroundings. It's a plain bedroom, neat and dull with no character whatsoever, no posters on the wall, not even a stray sock on the floor. His novels are stacked neatly on his desk, a gooseneck lamp at the corner and his laptop at the center and Tv mounted on his wall. I fight to recollect the events of last night, but the last thing I can remember is conversating with Maxwell on a balcony. It's hard to recall what he had been wearing or what we had really spoken about. And of course, the intense headache isn't particularly helpful either.

"I could get you arrested for kidnap," I say groggily

"I believe the words you're looking for are thank you"

"For what exactly?"

"For rescuing you from your own drunkenness and letting you crash on my bed, not to mention allowing you to drool on my Egyptian cotton sheets," he replies, "I'd like to think we're even now"

I yawn melodiously and feel around the bed for my phone. I then realise that I'm in nothing but my boxers, my cheeks burn fiercely at the realisation. I turn to look at Maxwell who scrunches his face.

"What's wrong with your face?" he asks

"Why am I naked?"

"I don't know Luca-Blue, you like sleeping naked?" he deadpans

"Did you-"

"Woah, no! The only things I took off were your jacket and shoes, whatever else that came off whilst I was peacefully asleep on my couch, has nothing to do with me"

His words bring me relief but don't lessen my discomfort. I shouldn't be bothered that he slept on the couch but this bugs me, the reality of him finding me completely repulsive. Why do I even care? I pray this is a bizarre dream I am yet to wake up from.

"I did wake up to you creepily gawking at me, so I wouldn't put it passed you," I squint with suspicion

"Oh, please Luca-Blue, I'm not exactly thrilled by naked teenage boys. I fuck women, very beautiful women," he rolls his eyes

I'm taken aback by his words and for some undecipherable reason, they sting.

"With that said, get dressed and get out of my apartment, I'm expecting someone," he commands before abandoning me with a throbbing head and wounded spirit.

It's troubling how Maxwell, can, for a moment embody a selfless knight then, in the blink of an eye transform into the devil reincarnated. If I'm such an inconvenience to him, he should have just left me at the party, I was surely more than capable of bringing myself home in one piece. My phone begins to vibrate from beneath the pillow and I quickly reach for it. Ten missed calls from Milo, two from mum and a newly received text.

Milo: WHERE R U???

Blue: I'm alive, relax bro.

I text back and thereafter put my phone on airplane mode. I look over on the nightstand and find a glass of water and a painkiller. Tucked under the glass is a yellow sticky note that reads: WARNING: For hungover pretty boys only. I feel myself smile and although reluctant to let it spread across my face, I find I am now gleaming. Damn you, Maxwell. I take large gulps of water after consuming the pill and rake a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling conscious of my appearance. I probably look like shit.